


The Huntress and Her Dragon

by deadlypen1



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amelie's parents, Annecy, Ass Play, Established Relationship, F/M, Football | Soccer, Marriage Proposal, Massage, Morning Sex, Nipple Play, Oasis, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Roleplay, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Weddings, World Cup, huntress amelie, they have a kid eventually, widowhanzo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-11 18:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 36,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10471380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlypen1/pseuds/deadlypen1
Summary: The ongoing escapades of Amelie Lacroix and Hanzo Shimada. (Or where I put all my Widowhanzo stories/one-offs)





	1. Mission in Oasis

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing series of one-offs about Amelie and Hanzo's relationship. Because I'm trash for this pairing and it needs more love.
> 
> This is canon with my other works, so these are the same Amelie and Hanzo who appear in Widowmaker's Revenge and Double Date in Tokyo.

Oasis. A shining jewel rising out of deserts of Iraq, dedicated to what science could achieve without restraint. A new Babylon, if you will. It’s a place where, due to all the major scientific breakthroughs achieved, major power brokers of the world try to jockey influence of the governing Ministries for their own end. Occasionally through drastic means.

One of the city center highlights is the elBuffi restaurant, one of the finest dining establishments in the world, with a reservation backlog rumored to be a year. Only the best for a place that strives to be the world’s best city. The place had recently expanded to include a bar, more seating, and an expanded kitchen space, but it didn’t make getting a table any easier.

The lobby was crowded when two potential patrons entered with intertwined arms. The man wearing a fine black suit with a skinny tie, the woman an elegant dark navy dress cut in a way to expose her scarred, tattooed upper torso and arms. She was carrying a duffle bag marked with the Overwatch logo on it.

Overwatch agents Hanzo Shimada and Amelie Lacroix, known as “Huntress,” had entered the premises. 

“Hanzo Shimada, party of two,” the archer told the Omnic host.

“Ah yes, Mr. Shimada, we were expecting you,” the Omnic responded. “Would you like that bag checked in, miss?”

“Oui, merci,” Amelie responded, leaving it beside the host’s stand as another Omnic came to take it away.

“Right this way,” the host lead them to a table for two, situated underneath one of the many Arabic arches. The dining area was full of patrons and omnics scrambling around trying to get orders and deliveries right. Once Amelie and Hanzo sat down, there wasn’t an empty table in sight. “May I ask what brings you two to Oasis?”

“We’re here on business,” Hanzo sternly replied, being handed a menu and starting to read it.

“It’s also our anniversary,” Amelie told the host.

“Oh how wonderful. How long have you been married?”

“Oh, we’re not married. We’ve only been dating four months.”

“Oh I apologize. I just haven’t known someone to celebrate an occasion like that here.”

“Well, my koishii (darling) deserves the best,” Hanzo said, starting to smirk. “She’s made the time we’ve spent together the happiest of my life.”

“You as well, mon cher,” Amelie said, giving a smile and starting to drag her leg against the side of Hanzo’s pants underneath the table.

“I’ll give you two a minute to look everything over. Your waiter will be along shortly,” the host replied before leaving the couple to their own, looking over the given menus.

“What looks good to you, cher?” Amelie asked, still rubbing her leg against his.

“What time is there to look at food? We have a target to find.”

“And we will in due time. Just keep a lookout. I’m thinking maybe this gourmet falafel to start.”

“Amelie,”

“Oh don’t worry Hanzo, I’m sure it’s big enough to share.”

“No, Amelie. I see him.”

Hanzo gazed across the dining area to the newly added bar, where he spied another Japanese man wearing a similar outfit to him, except he wore sunglasses and had much messier hair. He was looking across the restaurant as well, but not for Hanzo.

“Is it him?” Amelie whispered.

“Yep. Kuoru Nakahara. One of the best hitmen the Tokyo underworld has to offer.”

“Do you know if who he’s after is here?”

“Hello,” one of the omnic waiters stopped by their table, Amelie and Hanzo too wrapped up in their mission talk to see it coming up to them. “I am server unit 738 and I’ll be taking your orders this evening. Is there anything you’d like to drink?”

Neither of them were expecting a waiter so quickly. They haven’t had time to look over what drinks were available. Hanzo wasn’t paying attention, still eying the man across the room.

“What kind of wine do you have?” Amelie asked.

“Plenty from all over the world. We just got this Robert Mondavi red straight from Nappa Valley this past week. We also got a tart, white in from Dijon,”

“Give us that, two glasses,” she rushed out.

“Will do. You need more time deciding your orders?”

“Yes we need more time, don’t we cher?” Amelie directed at Hanzo, her leg rubbing against his turning into a kick.

“What, oh yes we do,” Hanzo replied once his mind was back at the table.

“I’ll get that wine for you right away,” the waiter left them be.

“Hanzo, don’t be constantly looking over there,” Amelie felt the need to tell her boyfriend. “You’ll appear suspicious.”

“It’s called keeping an eye on your target. A fellow sniper should know how important that is. He hasn’t left the bar, by the way.”

“Yes, but we’re in the same room as him, not ten stories above the ground.”

“You should take notes then. We’re in my element, koishii. Dealing with insolents in a fine establishment.”

“I’ve had my fair share of missions in fine dining establishments too, cher.”

“Hold on, I think they’re here.”

Hanzo spied out two other people walking across the dining area. One a woman wearing a hijab, the other man with a Keffiyeh, both wearing business suits. They were being escorted to a similar table for two, but in the middle of the room.

“I have a read on Anya Al-Shahrani and Youssef Al-Jabiri,” Hanzo whispered.

“Are you certain?” Amelie whispered back.

“Look for yourself,” Hanzo urged. Amelie looked over her left shoulder to see the same people Hanzo pointed out. It was the same faces on their mission report. Two of the Ministry heads that govern all of Oasis. And she saw the shady man at the bar Hanzo identified as Kuoru Nakahara. He was looking the same direction Hanzo was towards the two Ministry heads. He downed his glass of scotch and started making his way towards their table.

“Your wine,” their waiter returned with a bottle of white wine and two glasses, setting them on the table and pouring. Hanzo didn’t pay no mind, instead getting up from the table and making his way over to the same table.

“Do you need more time to decide?” the waiter asked.

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Amelie told him, acting obvious to Hanzo’s absence.

Al-Shahrani and Al-Jabiri were in the middle of a conversation about their days at Oasis University, having just ordered drinks as well. Al-Shahrani, as head of the Ministry of Geology, talked about how the latest efforts to export Oasis’ desert construction technology to North Africa had stalled again. Al-Jabiri, with the Ministry of Biology, went off on the latest ruffian attempt to deface the Abu Hassoun Gardens as Kuoru approached their table.

“Excuse me, you two,” Kuoru started off with. He had a speech prepared, about how it would be unwise to ignore his employer’s demands before killing them. But it was interrupted by Hanzo’s presence. 

“Kuoru Nakahara. I haven’t seen you since I worked with the Oshiros to take out the Yamashitas.”

“Y-you, Shimada,” Kouru’s train of thought shifted to this new threat. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m sorry, do you two know each other?” Al-Shahrani asked, feeling the two ministry heads were now interfering with a conversation.

“Yes I do,” Hanzo replied. “I know this man, a star hitman of the Tokyo underworld. Tell me, who’s paying you to carry out their hits here?”

“How do I know you’re not here doing the same thing?” Kuoru bit back.

“Oh you haven’t been keeping up. I’m with Overwatch now, bringing people who break international law like I suspect you’ve done, or about to do given who we’re here with.”

All eyes were on Kuoru, as his seemingly easy task of taking out the ministry heads was growing more and more impossible. He dragged an arm along the side of his coat, feeling his gun against the fabric.

“I have another agent with me too,” Hanzo boasted. “You might’ve heard of her, a lovely woman going by Huntress. If I can’t deal with you, she will. So if you could just cease whatever you were going to do and come with us, there’ll be no trouble.”

The hitman’s mission was foiled, not suspecting having to deal with two Overwatch agents. Whatever his employer was paying him, it was nowhere near enough to deal with this. In a panic, all Kuoru could do was throw a quick punch at Hanzo from across the table, making a quick getaway through the restaurant crowds.

“Amelie, he’s running!” Hanzo shouted as he recovered, with Amelie, having watched the whole exchange, getting up in quick response. She needed to bring out the bag she brought in, but remembered it was checked into wherever they store extras here. So she ran back up to the host stand towards the front as Hanzo gave followed her.

“My bag, where’d you put my bag?” Amelie hassled the omnic host.

“We put it with all the other checked-in items,” the host hesitated to respond. He pointed to his left where the guests coats would be checked in. 

Amelie ran over and jumped over the divider, forcing the omnic attendant out of its way. She found the bag she brought in underneath one of the coat hangers. She unzipped it, pulling out Hanzo’s bow, with a few arrows handy, tossing them to him, and the parts of her rifle, starting to assemble it. It was a new model she requested to better fit her regular Huntress outfit. Slick black with silver, gold and red ornamentations. And more powerful than the ones she used previously as part of Talon and Overwatch.

With her rifle assembled, Amelie jumped back into the restaurant area, running for the front door as Hanzo was already outside, working on getting some arrows off at Kuoru. None had yet landed their mark as the hitman hid behind some cars and shrubberies, firing back when he had the chance. The archer ran out of arrows to use as Kuoru, finally continued making his getaway.

“I’ve got this,” Amelie urged her boyfriend to back off.

Amelie walked down the restaurant’s front steps onto the street, seeing Kuoru was still running towards the archway leading to a gazebo in the city square. Very much in her sights.

She raised her rifle and popped the scope up, her mind quickly running through where the best non-lethal shot would be. Arm? Leg? Torso? Where would he end up as she made her shot?

The target ran up the steps underneath the arch as Amelie pulled the trigger, a loud crack emitting from the rifle, causing the onlooking crowds to duck. Kuoru fell down as he reached the top step, incapacitated as Amelie and Hazno made their way down the street to the target.

Kuoru was clenching his left buttock, where Amelie’s bullet embedded itself.

The Oasis police arrived at the scene momentarily, carrying the perpetrator to a police car, as Amelie and Hanzo were brought over to explain themselves. 

“I take it you two are responsible for this?” one of the officer’s scolded the two agents.

“We’re with Overwatch, madame,” Amelie explained. Hanzo handed over both their I.D.’s to show the officer. “We have reason to believe this man was going to carry out an assassination attempt on two Ministry heads.”

“Oh yeah, Miss, um, Huntress? Do you have any proof?”

“Contact Overwatch when you bring this guy to your jail. One of our data gatherers will go over the facts with you. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied then.”

As the police drove off, Amelie and Hanzo turned around and headed back to the restaurant, holding hands with their weapons of choice held in their free hands. The late evening sun beated down on the two; the sweat and adrenaline of carrying out their task had both their faces feeling warm.

“Well that was exhilarating,” Amelie looked at her boyfriend’s face with a smirk. “You think our dinners came out by now?”

“We didn’t even order it yet!”

“I ordered while you were making a fool of yourself before. Hope you like kebabs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have ideas for future installments, but I'm open to suggestions. Feel free to hit me up at deadlypen1.tumblr.com if you have an idea for me to write.


	2. Trinkets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo gives Amelie a present after their Oasis mission.
> 
> NSFW Chapter ahead.

During their stay in Oasis, Amelie and Hanzo stayed at the Gilden Tower Hotel, a still under construction building that was already the tallest in the world, at 883 meters, and would hold the record far and way at 1100 meters when finished.

Their room was on the 30th floor, giving the guests a pristine view of Oasis’ landmarks. The city center, the Abu Hassoun Gardens, the university, and the vast expanses of Arabian desert Oasis was slowly taking over. The sun had set by this point, leaving nothing but stars in the black night.

“Whoever thought it was okay to eat raw fish?” Amelie was in the middle of trying to make a point as the couple walked into their room, one the suites with a full sitting room (with a couch, table, and tv), bedroom, and bathroom. The lights were already set to give off a faint glow throughout the interior.

“With how it’s prepared, it’s perfectly safe to eat,” Hanzo tried convincing her. “You are aware how many people eat sushi, right?”

“Do you not know how often they risk food poisoning every time they eat that?”

“Says the woman who comes from a place where they eat snails and frog legs.”

“Hey, I’ve never eaten a snail or frog in my life! They’re just as repugnant”

“I would’ve thought you’d enjoy the food here instead.”

“Those kebabs were just too spicy for me,” Amelie was in the middle of saying as she noticed a bucket with ice and a wine bottle inside. There were two glasses beside it.

“Oh, I took the liberty,” Hanzo meekly explained. “Champagne?”

“You know me well, archer,” Amelie remarked as she lead the two of them to the couch, immediately taking a position lying beside her boyfriend as they sat down.

Hanzo grabbed the bottle, briefly having a hard time popping the cork. When it did, with a loud *pop*, followed by some fizzing, he poured the drink into their glasses, clinking them when he finished. 

“Would’ve thought you’d order some sake,” Amelie remarked, taking her first sip. 

“I think you deserve something French, after a successful mission.”

“Thoughtful. They didn’t have any sake, did they?”

“None at all. This is supposed to be one of the most global cities, how do they not have sake?”

Amelie just had to laugh, as she ran a hand through Hanzo’s thick hair, liking to go along his greying temples.

“So, any idea what your next mission is yet?” Hanzo asked after taking a gulp from glass.

“Not until I get back to Gibraltar, non. I imagine it’s the same for you back at Watchpoint: Tokyo?”

“I know what mine is. Have to do lookout duty for remembrance services in Busan next week.”

“You know if Hana will be there?”

“I imagine so, given the amount of MEKA pilots due to be honored.”

“So when’s the next time we can see each other?”

“Given that, plus whatever missions we end up being assigned on, not for two weeks at least.”

“Well, mon cher, it appears we have to make the most of this night. This champagne’s a fine way to start,” Amelie remarked, reaching over to clink Hanzo’s glass again and to give him a kiss.

“There’s something else I wanted to give you,” Hanzo said, getting up and walking over to his suitcase, unzipping it. He pulled out a velvet rectangular box with Japanese script embroidered on it. 

“I know it’s only been four months, not a particularly special anniversary, but this is something I’d imagine you’d like.”

“Oh really?” Amelie replied, with excitement building inside her.

Hanzo handed over the velvet box. Ameile eagerly opened the lid to see what was inside. Along the padded interior was a silver necklace with a metal circle hanging off the middle. It was enough to make her jaw drop.

Amelie pulled the necklace out of the case, admiring the chains. Her eyes were then drawn to the metal circle. It was double-sided, with an engraved image of the Paris skyline on one side and Tokyo on the other. She couldn’t make out the Japanese script on the Tokyo side, “我々は悲劇から愛を見つける,” but could perfectly make out the French on the other.

Nous trouvons l'amour de la tragédie. (We find love out of tragedy)

“Oh Hanzo, I love it,” Ameile thanked her boyfriend with a hug and kiss. “Where did you find this?”

“One of the trinket shops back in Hanamura makes custom gifts.” 

“What does the Japanese say?”

“The same thing the French side does. Wareware wa higeki kara ai o mitsukeru, that’s how you pronounce it.”

“You know I’m not fluent in Japanese. How do I know it doesn’t say something else?”

“I think you know me better than to play a trick like that.”

“I’m working on getting better, I swear.”

“I don’t doubt it. As much as I’ve been working on my French.”

“Put it on me!” Amelie handed the necklace over and turned her back to Hanzo, the anticipation filling her. The archer drapped the trinket around her neck, briefly holding it tight as he connected the two ends together. As he finished, he let the gift hang loose, the embroidered silver circle resting just above the start of her cleavage.

“How does it look?” Amelie asked as she turned around.

“As beautiful as I’d imagined.”

“Remind me to get you something like this for our next insignificant anniversary.”

Amelie put her glass down and moved to mount herself on Hanzo’s lap, the sides of her dress draping over his legs. She started to kiss along the sides of Hanzo’s beard, inching forward to press her chest against his. When their lips touched again, Amelie sent her tongue into his mouth, trying to feel his and the inside skin. Hanzo responded by running a hand along the back of Amelie’s head, lightly tugging on bits of her loose, long, black hair.

The Frenchwoman’s phone started to vibrate on the table. Amelie broke away from Hanzo’s lips, giving off an annoyed look. The make-out session would have to wait.

“Excuse me,” Amelie apologized as she answered the phone. “Hello? . . . salut Lena, what is it? . . . yes the mission was a success . . . it was something you’d do, I shot the man in his butt . . . it is funny, I know . . . I’m with Hanzo in our hotel room right now . . . Lena says hi by the way,” she directed at Hanzo. “Where are you up to? . . . Toronto? What for? . . . okay okay . . . I’ll see you when you get back to base then . . . love you too, bye,” Amelie finished as she hung up, putting the phone back on the table, turning her attention back to Hanzo. “Now, where were we?” 

“I believe we were kissing.”

“Sounds about right,” as Amelie rejoined her mouth to Hanzo’s, resuming the same techniques they were doing before. The Frenchwoman pressed her body closer to the archer’s, her hips starting to gyrate along his crotch, as she could feel his member starting to grow in his pants. She broke off of his lips to whisper in his ear.

“I don’t have any trinkets to give, but I did have something else in mind for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Hanzo asked, intrigued by what she had to offer.

“Go make yourself comfortable in the bedroom. I have to change first.”

“Into what?”

“That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it? Go on.”

Hanzo, with excitement building inside his chest as Amelie dismounted him, got up from the couch, and started making his way to the suite’s bedroom. He looked back, seeing his goddess of a girlfriend looking at his every move.

“Go on, I won’t be long,” Amelie reassured him, getting up and making her way to her suitcase. “And close the door, will you?”

Once he closed the door, Hanzo took off his shoes and lay down on the bed, waiting for what Amelie had in store. His mind raced, it had to have been what it thought it was, since they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while. He figured he should take off his jacket, tossing it aside onto the floor near his shoes. Then Hanzo realized, why stop there? He undid his tie and tossed that aside as well, starting to unbutton his shirt. Amelie loved playing with his tattooed arm, so why deprive her of it?

A knock on the door disturbed Hanzo as he tossed his shirt aside.

“Are you ready, cher?” Amelie’s voice came from the other side.

“Yes, koishii.”

The door opened slowly, with Amelie wearing the surprise that was promised. She was wearing a red, tight, Asian cut dress with gold trim along the edges. Taking a few steps in, Amelie decided to flash her bashside, revealing the dress was backless. If she still had Widowmaker’s spider tattoo, it would be in perfect view. Her hair was also did up in a messy bun, held together by long pins. 

As she reached the front of the bed, Amelie started marching her fingers from the edge to Hanzo’s feet, still covered in socks.

“Sorena no zuboon o nogu,” Amelie attempted to order in Japanese. 

“What?” Hanzo asked confused, only with a rough idea of what she wanted to say.

“Sorera non zu, -- Sorera no zubon,” 

“You don’t have to try Japanese, I know what you want.”

“No, I want to do this!”

“Just say you want my pants off and I’ll do it.”

“Non, it won’t be the same!”

“I can teach you the right phrase, if you want this foreplay done right.”

“I already looked it up, I know it.”

“How about, if you want to say it in Japanese, I’ll respond in French? I did say I was learning as well.”

“Ooh, I didn’t think of that. I like it.”

“Agreed then. What you want to say is Sorera no zubon o nugu.”

Amelie, memorizing the way Hanzo said the phrase, resumed her seductive tone. “Sorera no zubon o nugu.”

“Comme vous le souhaitez,” (As you wish) Hanzo willingly obeyed, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his black slacks, pulling them along with his underwear in one swoop. Amelie was at work pulling his socks off at the same time, both throwing the articles aside to the pile Hanzo already started. 

Amelie’s right fingers marched up along the side of Hanzo’s body, with her left going along his growing cock. They traced along the various outlines of the dragon tattoo covering Hanzo’s chest, pinching his oft-exposed nipple. She briefly bit it before moving on to bite her lover’s lips, followed with a series of passionate kisses.

Hanzo’s hands started off along her back, across the skin the backless dress exposed. He ran his fingers along her spine, feeling her distorted scars. They moved on to feeling the sides of her legs, dragging along the calves, briefly going in circles around her knees, then going up her leg muscles to where the dress met. Hanzo was feeling greedy, running his hands underneath the dress up to her waist. There, feeling around her skin, he made a realization.

Amelie wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

“Feel something you like?” Amelie whispered into his ear.

All Hanzo felt he could do was nod, caught off-guard with how forward his girlfriend was being.

“Want a closer look?” Amelie offered.

Again, Hanzo only nodded.

Amelie hiked up enough of her dress to reveal her pussy, the hair surrounding it neatly trimmed. She turned around so her butt was facing Hanzo’s head. His attention immediately turned to rubbing his hands along her buttcheeks.

“Has anyone ever told you what an amazing ass you have?” Hanzo complimented.

“Only everyone I’ve ever slept with,” Amelie replied. She backed up so she was sitting on Hanzo’s face, his tongue starting to immediately work at her folds. Amelie leaned back, her arms resting on the bedframe for support as Hanzo held her by the waist to keep steady.

Amelie undid the pins holding her black hair in place, letting it flow along her shoulder. She unbuttoned her dress and pulled it over her head, the only thing she wore now being the newly given necklace, and tossed that aside onto the pile. She worked on controlling her breathing, with moans coming out every so often as her orgasm started to build.

Amelie eyed Hanzo’s erect cock, stiffly bent not doing anything. Waiting to join in on the fun. She decided to bend down over her lover’s body, her tongue circling the head of his full erection, dotting the shaft with kisses before taking it into her mouth. Drips of pre-cum starting coming out almost immediately.

The mentality of the two turned into as if they were in engaging in a friendly battle competition. Which sniper could get the most kills. Only now it was who’d be the first to make their lover cum. Amelie bobbing her head up and down on Hanzo’s cock, with her hand massaging his balls, and Hanzo’s tongue firmly along her clit, now with two fingers plunging in and out of her pussy.

Hanzo may have had an early advantage, getting the chance to pleasure his girlfriend first, but he felt pressure starting to build around his bladder. He often had the habit of going off early when making love to Amelie. 

Hanzo decided to start playing dirty. He switched hands going inside her clit, sucking of his fingers before going further. With his right thumb, he started circling her anus.

Amelie felt the bizarre sensation immediately, driving up her arousal further, her moans coming out more quickly. Oh, Hanzo’s stepping up. Two can play this game. With the hand she was grabbing his balls with, Amelie ran her index finger underneath them to the very base of his shaft. She started to stroke it while continuing to fondle, with his cock still in her mouth.

The two kept this duels going, trying to make the other give up first. Amelie’s moans were getting louder, her hips starting to spasm, yet she still had the upper hand. Hanzo’s panting became shorter and shorter, the pressure building inside him became too great, and he could feel his cum pumping out in to Amelie’s mouth. Her tongue swirled around the tip a few times more, the woman working to swallow every last drop of his discharge, before letting it go of the cock with a *pop*. 

The Huntress had won this battle. 

Amelie dismounted Hanzo’s face, adjusting herself she now lay on her side next to the man still coming down from his orgasm, marching her fingers along her boyfriend’s chest. The necklace went unscathed from this lovemaking session.

“Looks like I win, cher,” Amelie mocked, her tongue cleaning up the last drips of her lover’s cum off her lips.

“I would’ve had you in a few more seconds.”

“A few seconds is all it takes. You lasted longer than you usually do.”

“You calling me weak?”

“I’ve dealt with much weaker men than you. At least you’re improving,” Amelie joined her lips to her lover’s once again, the taste of Hanzo’s salty cum still lingering in her mouth as their tongue’s met. 

“Want to go again?” Amelie proposed with a smile. 

Hanzo smirked in return. “You know I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up at deadlypen1.tumblr.com if you have any ideas for this series.


	3. Morning Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie talks to Hanzo about transferring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another NSFW chapter here, and it's the last part of this Oasis bit.

Amelie’s eyes slowly opened, though she didn’t necessarily want them too. The windows of their room didn’t face east, but the light of the risen sun crept over the horizon as the sky was already a shade of light blue with clouds overhead. 

Her chest was pressed against Hanzo’s back, the right arm draped over his side with the hand grazing his pecs. His neck had one healthy hickey on it while his shoulders had other, less impressive marks on them. Her neck still felt sore, another hickey fresh on the skin.

Amelie’s free hand traced down his bare back, occasionally going to the new necklace that still hung around her neck. Her thoughts went over how close she’d gotten to the Shimada. This man she’d grown to love over the course of this past year. First brought together through Talon as they gave the disgraced Shimada an offer to join, he was the first in a long time to say there was goodness hidden in the mind-warped assassin known as Widowmaker. He was not part of her conversion process, where Overwatch, still an outlawed organization, abducted Widowmaker and managed to bring Amelie back to light, restoring her memories and bringing her skin back to it’s normal white shade. But when they did meet again, as Overwatch and their allies stormed Talon’s headquarters, Hanzo was pleasantly surprised as what he found.

In the time since, as Amelie, and later Hanzo, got acclimated to being part of Overwatch, the Frenchwoman still struggled with her inner demons, manifesting itself in visions of Widowmaker. Amelie tried various ways of coping, among them killing some of the people responsible for Widowmaker’s creation and making her friendship with Lena Oxton more sexual. And during that time, she and Hanzo bonded more over their common tortuous pasts. And soon, that turned sexual as well, but more romantic than what she got out of being with Lena.

Amelie enjoyed every single day she got even just talk to her archer. Due to the nature of their current long-distance relationship, maybe just talking on the phone or through videochat was all they could get on some days, but it was enough for her. And they’d separated for two weeks more; the thought put a damper on her happiness. They’ve been physically apart for longer periods before, but with how things were progressing between the two, she certainly didn’t want to be separated from him again for so long.

She wanted him back at Gibraltar with her and everyone else she grew to be friends with.

Amelie brushed aside some of his unkempt hair to reach his neck, dotting it with kisses before reaching his ear. Hanzo started to shift around to better face her, his eyes opening, and smiling as he saw his beautiful girlfriend.

“Bonjour mon amour,” Amelie greeted.

“Ohayo watashi no ai,” (Good morning my love) Hanzo responded in turn. 

“Did you sleep well?”

“Of course, whenever I’m by your side.”

“What time do you have to leave by?” 

“The plane to pick me up doesn’t leave until one, then it’s a 10-hour flight back to Tokyo.”

“Ah, good. We have more than enough time.”

“Time for what?”

Amelie moved herself on top of her lover, still pressing herself close and keeping her waist underneath the bedsheets. Her left hand was placed on Hanzo’s shoulder while her right searched for his cock.

“Amelie,”

“Shh, shh,” Amelie worked to get Hanzo to quiet down. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll do all the work.”

“I’m still sore from last night.”

“Just a quick one, then we can get cleaned up and on with our days.”

“How quick?”

“However long you think you can last.”

“Sounds like another challenge.”

Amelie’s hand found his erection, already growing against her crotch, which she grabbed and rubbed the tip against her folds before pushing it in further. The Frenchwoman steadied herself by grabbing both of Hanzo’s shoulders as her hips rocked up and down. Hanzo’s hands reached under the blanket, grabbing her hips so she would remain consistent. He closed his eyes as he rolled his head back into the pillow.

“Hanzo, open your eyes,” Amelie softly demanded. “Don’t you want to look at me?”

“I’m still sore,” Hanzo tried making an excuse as he opened them again. “You make things so intense.”

“Then I’ll go slowly,” Amelie offered, slowing down the rhythm of her hips. The slower strides on Hanzo’s cock drew out his moans; he stared into her blue eyes as the two tried breathing in unison.

“Hanzo,” Amelie tried not to moan while talking. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“You’re talking now?”

“Why not?”

“You seem pre-occupied.”

“Can I at least saaaaay what’s on my mind?”

“Of course.”

“I know we’ve talked about this before, but have you given any more thought into transferring to Gibraltar?”

“Of course I havvvve. But it’s not as easy as you’d think.”

“Just talk to your superior about it. I’m sure he *ohhhh* can understand.”

“Amelie, no one else at Watchpoint: Tokyo has knowledge about the criminal underworld like I do. They’d be losing a valuable asset.”

“Just enter what you know into computers. We have plenty powerful databases.”

Amelie’s rocking started going faster, the movement of the sheets becoming more erratic. Hanzo’s hands had spread apart by this point, one running up her back, the other grabbing one of her buttcheeks. Still, the two lovers maintained eye contact.

“Or is there something else there you’re not telling me?” Amelie continued.

“I just, just, *ahhhh*”

“Just what? You can’t possibly be leaving anyone behind there, are you?”

“I’m not sure if I would be welcome as a permanent resident there.”

“What kind of worry is that? You’ve gotten along well enouuuuugh on base already.”

“I hardly talked to anyone there besides you and people assigned to me.”

By now, the pressure building up inside Hanzo became too great. He could feel himself bursting into his lover as she drew her head against his, their foreheads almost touching. The movement of her hips slowed down, trying to draw this out as long as she could.

“You finished?” Amelie asked, since she couldn’t feel any more of Hanzo’s cum.

“I believe so.”

“Good. Let’s get cleaned up.”

Amelie grabbed Hanzo’s hand, leading him out of the bed into the suite’s bathroom. It, like the rest of their accommodations, had a slight Arabic theme to it, with sandstone tilework lining the floor, the tabletop of the sinks, and the sides and seat of the shower. There was a window looking eastward, so more sunlight could get in here than the rest of the suite.

As Amelie and Hanzo got in the shower, she turned the knob and warm water came out of the showerhead. As the two got wetter, Amelie grabbed the provided bottle of body wash and spread the suds across her body and Hanzo’s, making sure to get his back as well.

“Well you know Lena’s very approachable, and you worked with Ana and Reinhardt before,” Amelie continued the conversation. “I can say people like Hana, Lucio, and Mei are fun to be around. Of course, you get your grumps like Torbjorn sulking around the place.”

“I’ve met them all before, I know what they’re like.”

“And if anything there stresses you out, you can join me for a meditation session with Zenyatta. Think of what he can help you with.”

“My mediation routine is fine. Doesn’t need any improvements from omnics.”

Hanzo looked away from his girlfriend, even as she moved on from body wash to shampoo. He just stood as Amelie’s fingers dug deep into his hair, letting the suds and shower water cascade down himself. She wondered why he’s being so hesitant. This should be an easy decision, at least it would be for her. Then again, Hanzo was more headstrong then she was.

“Does this have to do with Genji?”

“Maybe it does.”

“I thought you moved past it, since you’re on better terms with him.”

“Doesn’t stop me from thinking what could’ve been.”

Amelie again grasped her necklace, look at the Tokyo side Hanzo said meant, “We find love out of tragedy.” She turned off the shower, reaching out to grab towels for them. As they dried off, Amelie dangled the necklace from between her fingers.

“Hanzo, you’ve must’ve felt something inside when you bought this for me. And it wasn’t just love. It was that we’ve both moved on from our tragedies and have a happy life together. I still think about Gerard from time to time, but I’m at peace with him. What happened to Genji was, eleven, twelve years ago? He’s forgiven you. And I’d think by know you’ve forgiven yourself. I can understand not being in the same space as him because he’s your brother and your personalities don’t match. I wouldn’t want to work with my siblings either if I had any. But you still have to put up with him. Even if you don’t, you’d still have to.”

“Alright, I’ll take to my superiors about it,” Hanzo finally relented.

“Merci, cher,” Amelie thanked Hanzo with a kiss. Her arms remained on his shoulders after she finished. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Hanzo wiped off some wet strands of hair from her face so he could see it in its entirety.

“And you’re so handsome. How lucky we were to meet.”

Hanzo caught Amelie’s hand once again running along his dragon tattoo, first on his chest then running down his arm. How lucky they were indeed. As the two stared and smiled at each other, another thought popped up in Amelie’s head. She gathered their towels and threw them out of the shower space.

“Time for one more?” Amelie requested, running a hand downward along Hanzo’s abs. He was still somewhat hard from earlier.

“A, nan’nano?” (Oh, what the hell?)

“I take it that’s a yes,” Amelie gladly replied, turning around and having a leg resting on the shower’s seat, spreading her legs apart as she rested her arms against the tiled wall. Hanzo grabbed her by the hips and, once again, his erection entered his lover. As he thrusted, Amelie grabbed his left hand and moved it towards her breast, having him squeeze it. Fingers worked at pulling and massaging her nipple, drawing out breathy moans when the feeling of her building orgasm didn’t.

Amelie’s arm reached back for Hanzo’s head, bringing it up against hers. His breath swept across her cheek as she tilted her head to better see him. As his beard scratched against her porcelain skin, she planted kisses against the corner of his lips, making their way until they made full contact.

Their breathing was synchronized; as one breathed in and out, the other did the opposite. Whatever pain Hanzo was complaining about before wasn’t holding him back now, as his thrusts elicited more moaning than he was about get out of Amelie last night. 

Amelie came first, squeezing the hand clenching her breast and directing the archers other hand down to her clit, rubbing it intensely as she felt her abdomen give way. And Hanzo could feel himself pumping into her. She let out a moan in French, something Hanzo wasn’t able to recognize instantly, but given the fluctuations of her tone, she was really enjoying this.

As he felt the last drops leave, Hanzo whispered into Amelie’s ear, “I guess I win this time.” 

 

The two walked along the pavement at Oasis’ airport, in hardly the most appropriate clothing for dry desert heat. Both wore sunglasses, but Hanzo wore the same suitcoat from yesterday with a different button-up shirt. And Amelie sported a long-sleeved, black and white striped shirt with jeans. Along with a stylish coat over that. The two were mainly thinking about conditions of their respective bases.

The ship sent to get Hanzo, a nimble, sleek two-person jet, awaited as the pilot was busy polishing the silver outside of the craft. They were supposed to leave 10 minutes ago.

“About time you got here, Shimada,” the pilot called out to him. “You’re a lot of work for one person, you know that?”

“And you’re quite the conversationalist,” Hanzo retorted, before turning back towards Amelie. “I’ll be onboard in a moment.”

“Call me when you land in Tokyo, will you?” Amelie requested, as she adjusted the contours of his suit. 

“Of course I will, koishii.”

“And let me know what your superiors say about it.”

“That too. Sayonara Amelie.”

“Adieu, cher,” and Amelie planted one more drawn out kiss on Hanzo’s lips. As they finished, Hanzo hurried up the side-ladder into the aircraft. He sat behind the pilot with the hatch quickly closing behind, as the pilot was eager to get out of here. 

As the craft took off, going further and further into the sky, Amelie turned around and walked back to the airport, looking for her aircraft back to Gibraltar.


	4. Meet the Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie takes Hanzo to Annecy to meet her parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is out of order with how I want these two to progress, but this idea formed in my head first. So I just ran with it. Will probably put in a better chronological spot later on.
> 
> Also, this chapter does contain a lot of French straight from google translate.

The snow came early to Annecy, France this autumn. The city on the edge of the Lac d’Annecy near the Swiss border is known for it’s quaint, mountainside views, and traditionally warm weather had a light sprinkling of snow on the rooftops and streets. 

And today, Amelie Lacroix was finally going to show Hanzo Shimada where she grew up.

Their train arrived at the station at 2 in the afternoon, the two got up early for their journey taking them from Gibraltar, along the Spanish Mediterranean coast to the French border, and then changing trains at Marseille, doing so once again as they reached Lyon, heading to their final destination.

The station dropped them off right in the heart of downtown. Not the place Amelie first wanted Hanzo to see, thinking the lakeshore would be more scenic. Hanzo looked up towards the rustic rooftops anyway.

“Well, welcome to Annecy,” Amelie meekly proclaimed, thinking about making some kind of “ta-da” pose, but knew better.

“Wow,” Hanzo looked around in awe. “This place is beautiful.”

“Yes, picturesque views of the lake and mountains for all to see. Snowfall for those who want to go skiing, and weather warm enough for those eager for the Riviera.” 

“Would’ve thought you’d be more appreciative of your hometown.”

“I was the kind of girl who dreamed of the glamour of Paris. What’s the closest cities to here? Geneva. Lyon. Turin. They’re fine in their own right, but they don’t have the same draw.”

“So if you wanted to be a chef or politician then, you’d have other choices,” Hanzo tried joking.

“Oh no, Mr. Shimada. This girl always had her sights on Paris.” 

Holding hands and carrying their suitcases, the two lovers walked northward through the city center, Amelie pointing out various places that did or didn’t remain from her childhood. Where she had her first job. Where she had her first date and kiss. Where she’d gotten in trouble for trying to shoplift some flowers.

As the couple headed across the Boulevard de la Rocade, Amelie led her boyfriend down the Avenue des Romains, Among the standard suburban looking two-story homes, there were a few apartment buildings rising a few stories above the other homes, looking every plain on the outside. The couple ended up outside the brick entrance of one of them, and Amelie looked on the sheet of names and callbuzzers to find where her parents lived. It was still the same since she was a child. 2E.

“Okay, here’s what I need you to know,” Amelie gave him the rundown. “My father’s English is nearly as good as ours, but mother hardly uses it. She can understand it well enough. The place is really small, haven’t moved from it in all their time here. And I’ve only brought home only other French men for them to meet, so I don’t know how they’ll react when they’ll see you.”

“You have told them about me, right?”

“Of course, but they’ll only believe it when they see it.”

Amelie pushed on the buzzer for the appropriate apartment.

“Bonjour? Qui est là?” an elderly feminie voice called out.

“Mère, c'est moi, Amélie. Je suis ici avec Hanzo,” Amelie replied back.

“Amélie, oui oui! Attendez un instant,” the voice joyously replied before cutting off. Another buzzing and the unlocking of the front door meant they could go inside. The interior was just as unimpressive. Blank white walls occasionally dotted by wood doors and a floor covered in carpet usually found in a cheap hotel. They walked up a stairway to the second floor and proceeded to walk down the hallway.

Amelie knocked on the door marked 2E, waiting as the sound of pattering footsteps behind the door got closer. Greeting them once the door opened was an old woman with a wrinkled face and obviously dyed black hair. The mother in question. 

“Oh Amelie, c'est génial pour toi d'être à la maison!” the mother cried out as she hugged her daughter.

“Toi aussi maman,” Amelie replied, moving further into the apartment. Just as unimpressive as the rest of the building. With the same tacky carpeting, magazines and mail scattered about the island in the kitchenette, and a living room with a couch, table, some chairs, and a TV. The smell of cigarette smoke lingering, though one of the windows was open.

The other person there, an elderly man with greying hair, a greying goatee, and a thin cigarette in his mouth, stood further inside near the couch, waiting to greet the couple as well. Presumably, this was Amelie’s father.

“Qu'est-ce qui vous a fait si longtemps à visiter?” the father asked as he gave his daughter a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Les appels de service et tout ça,” Amelie replied back, giving her father a kiss as well. “Voulez-vous que nous parlions anglais?”

“Not at all,” the father made the language switch. “I’m sure your mother can follow along just fine. Tell us everything you’ve been up to, how things are in Overwatch.”

“Et à propos de cet homme que vous avez amené à la maison,” the mother remarked, noticing that Hanzo hadn’t yet moved further into the apartment. He didn’t want to interfere with whatever family bonding was happening.

“Sorry, where are my manners?” the father walked over to shake the archer’s hand. “You’re Hanzo, correct?”

“Yes I am,” Hanzo replied, shaking his hand in return.

“Hugo Blanchett, pleasure’s all mine. You’ve already met my wife, Marie. I trust it wasn’t too hard getting here?”

“The snow wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle,” Amelie replied, as they all sat down. Hugo and Marie on the couch beside the window, and Amelie and Hanzo in some chairs.

“Combien d'Annecy avez-vous vu?” Marie asked.

“We just walked from the station to here.”

“Did Amelie show you where she first went to ballet school? Right in the downtown area?”

“Pere, we’re planning on doing that tomorrow.”

“Well you should. The place has a whole section of their famous students area dedicated to our girl. Ever since she was three, Amelie always wanted to be a ballerina,” Hugo went on to mime amateurish movements, much to Amelie’s embarrasement. “Having her arms outstretched and fluttering about and stretching her legs on every surface she could find.”

“Pere!” Amelie complained in a tone similar to a teenager. 

“You remember the first ballet show I ever took you to? Messager’s Les Deux Pigeons? It was when she was seven; she kept begging me to take her to a show.”

“You’ve must’ve been very persuasive,” Hanzo jokingly told his girlfriend. Amelie just put a hand up to her face, hiding her giggling.

“You smoke, Hanzo?” Hugo offered a cigarette to the archer.

“No I don’t. Alcohol is more of my vice.”

“Can’t blame ya. I’ll fix you something to drink. What are the drinks like in Japan?”

“I prefer sake, but I guess they’re more alcohol heavy, and sweet.”

“I got the thing for you,” Hugo got up from the couch and over to the nearby kitchenette, opening up a cabinet full of liquor bottles and mixed drinks ingredients. He pulled a few out, starting to get to work.

“Comment vous êtes-vous réunis?” Marie asked the couple. Amelie’s face lost its smile.

“What did she say?” Hanzo asked his girlfriend.

“She wants to know how we met,” Amelie whispered to him. The feeling of making it through this process dropped off.

“Oh, I’d like to hear that too!” Hugo was in the middle of stirring Hanzo’s drink. 

“It’s very long and complicated,” Amelie tried to get out of this.

“Nonsense, we have more than enough time,” Hugo came back with his promised drink for Hanzo, a French 75. He put it down on the table in front of Hanzo, but the archer didn’t touch it.

“Do you want to start?” Amelie asked Hanzo, trying to pass the buck off to him.

“Go right ahead,” Hanzo handed it right back.

“If any of you would start, that would be appreciated,” Hugo eagerly awaited.

“It was when I was still Widowmaker,” Amelie finally admitted, unsure of how her parents would take the news. Or even just hearing that name again.

Amelie’s parents took a long look at each other, knowing they’d have to relive some feelings they tried to bury. Hugo took in a long breath of his cigarette, closing his eyes. The smoke he blew out first went in the direction of Amelie and Hanzo before redirecting it downward.

“So Hanzo,” Hugo continued the conversation determining to move forward, knocking some of the cigarette ashes into the ashtray. “How is it you met Widowmaker?”

“I accepted an offer to join Talon, and I worked with her on some missions,” he admitted.

“And where were those?”

“One was in Lijiang, another in Numbani.”

“Étiez-vous celui qui l'a sauvée?” Marie asked.

“She wants to know if you helped saved me,” Amelie clarified.

“From Widowmaker, no,” Hanzo explained. “Our friends at Overwatch took care of that. I did help keep her from relapsing though.”

Hanzo paused to consider what to say next. He didn’t want to make these old people relief any more grief. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, hearing what your daughter did and all.”

“No, no, Amelie already explained everything. Besides, in that intervening time, all those years, we had a feeling it was her.” 

“Qu'est-ce qui a fait que Talon est venu à vous?” Marie asked Hanzo, though he didn’t know the question was directed to him.

“Hanzo,” Amelie clarified. “Mère wants know what lead Talon to you.”

“Oh,” Hanzo realized. If the truth was all coming now, he might as well keep it going. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Blanchett, I don’t know how familiar you two are with organized crime.”

“Crime?” Marie repeated, somewhat shocked.

“I come from a Yakuza family. The Shimadas were once one of the most feared in Tokyo.”

“Amelie, what are you doing bringing criminals home?” Hugo started complaining. “I remember you saying that Blackwatch used to do the same, but I didn’t think you’d do this.”

“Père, Hanzo doesn’t do that anymore. He’s a sniper for Overwatch, like me.”

“Funny you should bring up Blackwatch,” Hanzo continued. “My brother Genji was actually part of some Blackwatch operations against my clan and some other yakuza groups.”

“Genji?” Hugo wondered. “Isn’t he that cyborg ninja you told us about, Amelie?”

“Yes he is,” Hanzo answered for her. “I’m . . . also the reason he’s like that.”

Marie through her hands up in the air as Hugo took another deep puff of his cigarette. They just gave a look at each other. Who really was this man their Amelie brought home? “And you still work with him?” Hugo worked up to say.

“Yes we do,” Amelie managed to get in, laying a hand on Hanzo’s knee. “He’s forgiven Hanzo for what happened. And I’d like to say it’s a way we’ve consoled each other. We’re both responsible for horrible things. But we’ve helped each other move on. And Hanzo gave me this necklace for that,” she emphasized by holding it with her other hand. “We find love out of tragedy.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to move on from that,” Hanzo tried steering the subject away. “What do you two do?”

“I’m retired, and Marie here is quite the amateur artist.”

“C'est la seule chose qui apporte de l'argent en ces jours,” Marie snarkily remarked, getting up and heading to the kitchenette, starting to make dinner.

“Ma pension nous couvre les deux et vous le savez!” Hugo remarked back.

“Cher, would you like to see my childhood room?” Amelie offered, thinking her elderly parents would bicker more as food would be made.

“I’d like that,” Hanzo replied as they got up. “Seeing more into the past of my love.”

“It’s pretty much what I’ve told you about myself already,” Amelie said, leading him back near the apartments front door where two other doors were. Amelie walked into the one of the right and turned on the lights.

As soon as Hanzo walked in, with Amelie standing in the middle, wondering if her boyfriend would say anything snarky, he just spun around to get a view of everything. The walls were decorated with pink and white French designs, with a fair amount of space taken up by posters of Paris and ballet dancers. Not the same ones she had in her Gibraltar room, but they had the same aesthetic.

Also adorning the walls were various news articles. And from the pictures, he gathered they were all about Amelie. Or at least her past life as Amelie Blanchett. They were from shows she done not just in France, but around the world. From the text, they were from various European and Western publications.

There was also a wedding announcement hanging up, a cursive font inviting people to the wedding of Gerard Lacroix and Amelie Blanchett. Some pictures of the ceremony, along with one of Amelie, in her wedding dress, standing in between her parents, all smiles. Then there was one of the bride and groom. The same one Amelie had back in her room in Gibraltar.

Then there was an article about Amelie’s kidnapping, “Ballet Star Kidnapped in own Home.” Along with periodic updates in the search and her recovery. Following that, one headline proclaimed “Overwatch Agent Found Dead in Sleep.” It obviously meant Gerard, followed with again, Amelie disappearing.

From there, the headlines shifted to ones that were obviously about Widowmaker. All about Overwatch members, politicians and other leaders murdered. And sightings of a blue-skinned woman tying in with all those deaths.

Then, the headlines started getting more positive again. Turning to how Overwatch was reinstated and reports on the missions Amelie was spotted being a part of. Both in her regular Overwatch uniform and the Huntress outfit.

“My parent’s collection,” Amelie’s voice caught him off-guard. His wandering eyes had him forget she was in the room with him. “Sorry my bedroom’s so embarrassing. All this ballet stuff and my parents tracking my life arc.”

“No I have no problem,” Hanzo tried replying back. “It’s nice having parents who look our for you. It’s refreshing seeing a loving family.”

“You’re telling me your parents never once showed you affection?”

“Only my mother. And it was only after father gave us an extreme talking to.”

“Amelie,” Hugo stood in the doorway calling out to his daughter. “Marie needs help preparing the food.”

Respecting her father’s wishes, Amelie left the bedroom for the kitchenette. Hanzo attempted to follow, but Hugo intentionally blocked his way.

“Hanzo, there’s some words I have for you,” Hugo breathed in another puff of a new cigarette. “I’d like to apologize. I didn’t have a right to judge you.”

“I suppose it’s fair,” Hanzo tried humoring the old French man. “My parents weren’t as necessarily as loving as you two seem.”

“Guess that comes with being raised in the mob?”

“More like being raised to uphold the family tradition.”

“And I see you found all these,” Hugo pointed to the walls lined with news stories, practically a life history of Amelie.

“It’s more than what I can say my parent’s have done for me.”

“Hanzo, the day Amelie first called us back, letting us know she was still alive, and working with Overwatch, that was the happiest day of our lives. Happier then the day she was born. Happier than when she got married. The first time she came back to visit us, letting us touch her again, that was another heavenly feeling entirely. You don’t know what it’s like thinking you’ve lost your only child. Then being convinced your child was turned into a brainwashed assassin. That’s the life we had to live for 10 years. 

We already were tracking her professional ballet life, but now, having to find instances of this blue woman, what our daughter had become, it was hearbreaking. But we knew there must’ve been a way to bring her back. Just that it was being what we know what to do.

And now, with her back, and being part of Overwatch, this room can be full of happy things again. Stories of how she’s making the world a better place. Making it safe, fighting against forces that seek to do what they did to her.”

“There hasn’t been any other instance of,” Hanzo interrupted to clarify.

“I know what you mean, but you get the point. Either way, I’m glad she has someone like you in her life. I’m glad she had everyone at Overwatch looking out for her. And I’m glad she is able to love again.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo graciously replied, as Hugo leaned in to give the man a hug, something Hanzo didn’t expect. “I didn’t think you French were so compassionate.”

“When it involves my daughter, I’m always compassionate,” Hugo explained, trying to make sure his cigarette ash didn’t get on Hanzo’s clothes when he backed away.

“Mr. Blanchett,” Hanzo nervously started up again. “There’s something else I wanted to ask you.”

“Yeah? What?”

“I don’t think either of us are ready to take this step yet. But when the time is right, I’d like to ask Amelie to marry me.”

“Marry you?” Hugo laughed as he puffed out some smoke. It was his turn to be unexpectedly surprised. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

“Doesn’t western tradition dictate the man has to get permission from the woman’s father first?”

“Hey, I just met you. You can’t just go on asking something so much from me.”

Hanzo wasn’t sure what this old Frenchman was saying. Yes? No? And why did he have a smile on his face doing that? “You’re joking, aren’t you?” 

“Of course I am,” Hugo gave Hanzo a slap on the back, chucking as he pulled his cigarette out of this mouth. “When Gerard asked me for permission to marry Amelie, I told him, ‘Go right ahead, you two are happy together.’ Of course back then, she was living the high-life in Paris and travelling the world with him and whatever ballet companies wanted her. She thought she’d never see Annecy again, that the whole world was her oyster. Now, times have changed yet they stay the same. Amelie’s travelling the world and another Overwatch agent wants to marry her. I say go right ahead, you two are happy together.”

“Arigato,” Hanzo shook his hand.

“If I have to look forward to you as a son-in-law, I need to brush up on my Japanese.”

“Hé, vous deux, le dîner est prêt,” Marie’s voice shouted from the kitchenette.

“Looks like dinner’s ready,” Hugo clarified to the Japanese man, sniffing the air to try and get a sense of what was in store. “Hope you like short-cut beef.”

“It better be as good as Kobe beef,” Hanzo tried humorously replying. 

“One thing,” he asked Hanzo before he left the room. “Just tell me when you’re planning on asking her.”

“It won’t be for a while, but I will.”


	5. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie and Hanzo spend a rainy day inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Sorry I haven't updated my stories in a while. I got a new job, had to move for it, death in the family, just a clusterfuck of things happening in my life. I'm working on plenty of ideas, but they'll definitely take more time than usual. So here, have something short and sweet.
> 
> Anyways, this one was inspired an interaction between my favorite widowhanzo rp'ers, verve-lilac and honor-and-redemption.

Rain was pouring down over Gibraltar, with winds and rumbling waves coming in and out the shore. Most of the peninsula’s residents had gone inside to spare themselves the displeasure of wet clothes.

Since it was raining for most of the day, there was little outdoor activity happening on the Overwatch Watchpoint. Other operations were still happening. Aircraft went in and out for missions. Drills were still happening at various indoor facilities. But nothing was done that didn’t need to be done.

Amelie and Hanzo were in the Frenchwoman’s quarters, lying in her bed, kissing as she laid on top of her lover. Both sets of lips grazed each other with tongues passing by, their eyes closed as this makeout session has gone on for 20 minutes at this point. Like everyone else on base, it was a lazy day for the two of them. No missions planned, no training sessions, no mediations. Just another day to themselves. Another day spent loving each other.

For once, the two snipers managed to keep their clothes on as they kissed, but that didn’t stop the occasional hand from sneaking underneath a shirt or grazing along their legs. It also didn’t stop Amelie from grinding herself against Hanzo’s body, working to feel his erection build underneath his pants. 

A shine of light burst through the window followed by a crack of thunder. Amelie instinctively threw her body upward on the bed, breaking the kiss as she buried her head into Hanzo’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.

“What was that for?” Hanzo wondered, confused at her sudden action

“Oh,” Amelie started feeling some shame come over herself, raising her head out of his shoulder. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing. You jumped in an instant.”

“I said don’t worry about it,” Amelie tried shutting Hanzo up with a kiss, but Hanzo put a finger to her lips, holding her off for the moment.

“Are you scared of thunder?”

“No!”

“You are, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not!”

“Then why did you flinch just then?”

“B-b-because,” Amelie stuttered, thinking of a way to get out of this embarrassing situation. “Because I was trying to try something different?”

Another flash of lightning followed by the roar of thunder followed, causing Amelie to do the same thing. Bury her head and user her arms to clutch Hanzo around the back.

“Since when was the great Huntress afraid of thunder and lightning?” Hanzo kindly mocked, as he stroked her loose hair out of the way of her face.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Amelie pleaded, looking at her boyfriend with flushed cheeks. “Not even Lena knows.”

“Is it more embarrassing than your fear of spiders?”

“Hey, that at least makes sense now than it did before.”

“I would think someone who snipes from the rooftops would be fine in the rain.”

Amelie briefly looked out the window to the dark sky, dotted with streaking raindrops. Then back to Hanzo, gazing at her with curioisity.

“It was just something that happened when I was young. My mother took me down to the Lac d’Annecy one rainy day. She wanted to see some boats attempting to traverse it, thinking they were brave for doing so. And they were doing fine, managing to get through the winds approaching the shore. But then the lightning started to pick up and struck one of the boats. Before the men inside could reach the shore, another bolt of lightning struck the lake. Mother dragged me off, as we ran of for safety.

When we got home, I cried for the rest of that night. And lightning startled me ever since.” Amelie flinched again when another crack of thunder went off.

“So what about when Widowmaker worked in the rain?” Hanzo asked.

“She didn’t fear it, but it was something that briefly triggered some memories of mine. And she had no idea what they were. Only that she should be afraid.”

“You have nothing to fear. In my mind, you should be right at home in the rain.”

Amelie looked at him with a sense of confusion. Did she rain on other people’s parades? Did the black sky that came with rain have something to do with her soul or conscience? 

“In Japan, the word for rain is Ame. Not that far off from your own name.”

Ame? The word for rain? It seemed too much like a coincidence for Hanzo to bring up now.

“It better not be made up to make me feel better.”

“Why would I lie about my own language? Besides, It’s an easy word to learn.”

“Ame,” Amelie repeated the word as Hanzo did. Not with the same accent on the last syllable on her name. More drawn out and long. She kept repeating it, liking the sound on her ears. Then she’d paid attention to the constant patter of raindrops. She already rained bullets down from the sky whenever she went on missions. She was adept at moving in the night more than day. And she made quite the team with her boyfriend as they did sniper work. Where one appeared, the other wasn’t far behind.

Oh, she really should feel at home in the rain.

“Does this mean you’re going to start calling me rain now?” Amelie asked, once again looking at her lover.

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“I like it, but I have the feeling it isn’t going to catch on with everyone else.”

“It could just be our secret.”

“Another one of many.”

Amelie brushed Hanzo’s hair off of his face and lowered her lips back onto his. The rain still heavily poured outside, raindrops violently hitting the window. The lightning and thunder still went on, and Amelie continued to grip onto Hanzo whenever that happened. But now, it was at least with a greater feeling she would be safe when they would be together.


	6. Training Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo sits in on one of Amelie's training sessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something that's as close to dealing with the sniper rivalry as I'll get.

A group of recruits and cadets, about fifteen of them, were standing in the general area of the Gibraltar outdoor firing range. It was overlooking a cliff’s edge with the Mediterranean filling out the vast expanse. They talked, getting to know each other before their commanding officer would come out to start their first session. They haven’t been part of Overwatch long, and hoped their time wouldn’t be a decision they’d regret.

Hanzo walked out the door and leaned against one of the poles supporting an awning. He was wearing his usual blue gi, silently inspecting the fools and making assumptions about them, guessing where they could be from. And think about what would make them crazy enough to go down this path in Overwatch. 

Two women he recognized from working with Amelie, Carla Van Jonker and Ela Teke walked up in front the group in their standard uniforms. Carla’s blonde hair was done in a bun at the back of her head while Ela’s black hair was in a bob.

“Alright you maggots!” Ela shouted in a tone inconsistent with her normal voice. The disorganized trainees struggled to get in some kind of formation.

“Ela, you’re trying too hard,” Carla whispered, looking at the trainees scrambling to form a straight line.

“Sgt. Lacroix said to put the fear in them.”

“She’ll do that on her own,” as the Dutchwoman spied her commanding officer coming through the door. After one quick word with Hanzo, she was heading out to her direction, in front of every “Anyways, meet your commanding officer, Sgt. Amelie Lacroix, 

Amelie approached the front of the group wearing her regular blue and yellow-accented Overwatch uniform instead of the black and red Huntress outfit she preferred for combat. She didn’t have a smile on her face, working on commanding the new recruit’s attention.

“Bonjour tout le monde,” Amelie greeted the recruits. “So you all want to be snipers, do you?”

The fifteen sitting in front of her either nodded their heads or shouted “Yeah” in their native language.

“Fair word of warning to you all. I’m not going to be as easy on you as Capt. Amari would be. You should know, I’m the reason she wears an eyepatch. I was trained to be the best, and I demand the best. My protégés didn’t come here from Holland and Cambodia to fight alongside weaklings. I’ve helped train agents stationed at watchpoints all over the world. Cape Town, Bridgetown, Singapore, Muscat. I’ve worked to make the snipers Overwatch produces the best in the world. And I can do the same for you, but only if you let me train you the right way. If you think tis isn’t for you, I’ll give you a chance to leave now and find some other occupation here.”

None of them left, and hardly any broke formation.

“Let’s hope your heads are on straight,” Amelie remarked, pointing her finger to one of the recruits. “You, up here.”

The person pointed out came up without hesitation. He was a young man with dark tan skin and curly spikes for hair. He stood beside Amelie, waiting for orders.

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that hair,” Amelie briefly got out, thinking she was quiet enough for him not to hear. “What’s your name and where are you from?”

“Khalid Nader El-Mofty, mam,” Khalid said. “From Tunis, Tunisia.”

“Well Khalid, what military experience do you have?”

“Served in the Tunisian military for 6 years as a sniper, mam. Was part of several strike teams that liberated several Mediterranean islands from terrorist control. 52 confirmed kills, mam.”

“Hmm, impressive,” Amelie replied with just the slightest bit of being impressed. She lifted up her black and silver ornamented rifle. “You ever worked with anything like this?”

Khalid was confused at was she was asking, and didn’t move from her position.

“This is the rifle I use in combat, specialty made for the woman calling herself Huntress. With enough power both in sniper and machine gun form to crack through a wall 10 feet thick. And precise enough to leave a perfect circle. A headshot would leave a circle in the skull and brain without any cracks. Here, hold it.”

The group heard a deep chuckling from back towards the way inside. Hanzo tried covering his mouth to muffle his laughter. Amelie shot him a disapproving look clearly visible to her students.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend,” Amelie assured the crowd, preparing to fire her rifle again. “He thinks bows and arrows are more dignified than a rifle. Hold it.”

Khalid took the black rifle and adjusted his grip on it, popping up the scope to see the view. It was lighter than he anticipated.

“I want you to shoot that target,” Amelie pointed across the water to a small rock rising out of the sea. No more than a few feet above the waves.

“That rock?” Khalid questioned. “I don’t see any target.”

“That’s what the scope is for.”

Khalid took her suggestion and looked through the scope. On the rock was a traditional bullseye hanging from a metal stand.

“Okay, there’s a target,” Khalid noted. “

“I want you to shoot it.”

Khalid looked back “That looks like a kilometer, at least.”

“You’re not going to try?” Amelie egged him on.

“Can this rifle even make that distance?”

“It’s designed to handle any distance. I’ve made kills from 2 miles away falling through the air. Hitting a target from such a distance would be no problem for any sniper.

This goes for all of you,” Amelie directed at the other recruits. “If you want to be among the best snipers Overwatch has to offer, you’re expect to make kills in any situation. And that’s the kind of training you should expect from me. I don’t wish for any of you to hit that target today,”

Again, laughter interrupted Amelie’s speech. Everyone looked back towards the door inside to see Hanzo had moved closer to the trainees. Clearly he found something Amelie said amusing.

“Something you care to add, Hanzo?” Amelie questioned, getting cross with him.

“These people are already among the best. That’s why they’re here. You think they can’t handle your challenge?”

“Is someone offering?”

Hanzo briefly hesitated coming up with a response, but only briefly. 

“With pleasure,” the archer replied with a bit of slyness. 

Hanzo walked up to Amelie and Khalid and took the rifle. He took a short time to adjust his grip, popping up the scope to see where the target was situated, one kilometer away on a rock. He steadied the black rifle so he could get the crosshairs right on the center.

“You know you’ve never fired my rifle,” Amelie whispered as everyone else looked on. “There’s no shame in not living up to my challenge.”

“Mere child’s play,” Hanzo warded her off, making his final preparations.

The archer pulled the trigger, resulting in a large crack and having to step back due to the force he wasn’t used to. When he popped up the scope again, he quickly popped it back down, satisfied with what he saw through it. He handed the rifle back to his girlfriend and walked to his space near the door. 

Amelie, when she looked through the scope to see where Hanzo’s shot ended up, ended up feeling defeated. He had hit the target perfectly without the least bit of hesitation. Now how would her new recruits take her seriously if her tests could be so easily undermined?

Hanzo remained in the back, in the spot he was before near the door leading inside, as Amelie finished up her talks with the trainees. Her initial plans had to be rethought, and she told them they would run through their first exercises tomorrow. With the session dismissed, and all the recruits heading back inside, Amelie walked over to her boyfriend with a disapproving look.

“I’ll have you know I don’t like when people humiliate me in front of my students,” Amelie scolded at Hanzo, shoving her long index finger at the edge of his gi.

“You laid out an easy challenge for your pupils. I felt they needed something worthy of their skill.” Hanzo replied, giving off a coy smile.

“I haven’t seen any of these people in combat yet. I need to test their capabilities first.”

“And end up shooting only one target? You have to be a more challenging teacher than that.”

“And what’s your deal thinking you could handle my rifle?”

“You think I never wielded a gun before? You do know what kind of family I come from right? And I think I handled much better than the times you tried wielding my bow.”

Amelie caught her finger drifting off the edge of the gi onto Hanzo’s exposed pec. She didn’t want to admit it to his face, she was supposed to be mad for undermining her test for the recruits. But seeing Hanzo wield her weapon, having perfect accuracy with it, it flattered her. Turned her on even. Amelie could easily think about some of the things she would do to him later. Make him think about what he did.

“I’ll be waiting outside your room in 20 minutes,” Amelie stated, her finger circling around his nipple, as she gave off a smirk. “We can further discuss who’s the better sniper then,” she vaguely threatened, marching off inside.


	7. Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo gives Amelie a massage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW chapter ahead
> 
> some inspiration for this goes to pucca-the-tree.

A knock on Hanzo’s door interrupted his meditation session. He was sitting on his knees on the floor, deep in thought, as the knocks ruined his concentration. 

“Who is it?” Hanzo asked with a hint of bitterness.

“You know who, cher,” Amelie’s voice from the other side called out.

Hanzo’s mood changed as he heard her voice. He got up off the floor and walked towards the door, pushing the button for it to slide open. 

Amelie stood in the doorframe, wearing a loose-fitting dark blue tank top with orange accents and matching short shorts. Her black hair was done up in a ponytail, with sweat visibly caked into her face and other exposed skin. She looked out of breath, tired after a long day out in the sun. 

“What is it Ame?” Hanzo asked.

“My back is killing me,” Amelie brushed past her boyfriend, walking over to his bed and collapsing face-first.

“Long day already? It’s hardly 4 yet,” Hanzo pointed out. 

“You’re not the one who has to train annoying brats,” her words came out garbled since her head was buried in his pillow.

“Is there anything you need?”

“I just want to rest,” Amelie moved her head so her voice wasn’t muffled

“You said your back hurt?”

“Oui. I must’ve aggravated some parts.”

“I could give you a massage,” Hanzo offered.

“Do you know how?”

“How hard can it be? And I know you like my hands on your body.” 

“Hmm,” Amelie purred. “That is true. Alright then.”

Before Hanzo could say what she should do, Amelie pulled her top over her head and dropped it to the floor. She laid down on his bed as Hanzo placed himself on top of her legs, starting off by rubbing them down.

As Hanzo looked back up towards her head, he eyed was Amelie was doing with her hands. She undid the clamp of her bra, working her shoulders so the straps would slide down her arms. The bra was tossed aside along with her top and Amelie rested her head against her folded arms, facedown.

“So, what was annoying about training today?” Hanzo asked, rubbing his palms into her shoulderblades, reaching up to her neck muscles.

“It’s just some of these people, they really test my paitience,” Amelie started to ramble. “Carla and Ela mean well, and they’re trying their best to supervise. But I’m starting to think training snipers might not be for them. They clearly understand the fundamentals of sniping. They’re just not that good at teaching it. Language might be an issue too, with random outbursts of Dutch and Khmer happening. I honestly don’t know how Ana’s done it all this time.”

Hanzo was now focusing on just her shoulderblades, making circular motions around the slightly protruding bones. He ran his knuckles down her spine as well.

“I really don’t know how other countries individual militaries work, because I don’t see how some of these recruits became snipers in the first place. There was one from Guatemala, Rodrigo Maradona, whose friends with another one from Colombia, Sebastian Barros. They kept saying things about how they’d like to take their chances trying to seduce the woman formerly known as Widowmaker. In Spanish so no one else would understand.”

“But you know Spanish, don’t you?” Hanzo asked, rubbing the area around her ribs.

“Years spent with Gabriel and Sombra helped my basic knowledge. They thought I couldn’t hear, but I understood everything they said. I believe some of the phrases they used were ‘No me importaría intentar joderla’ and ‘Morir tratando de follarla valdría la pena.’”

“I don’t understand Spanish, so enlighten me.”

“They were cocky and wanted to fuck me.”

“Did you say anything to them?” Hanzo replied without the slightest bit of concern in his voice.

“I told them if I ever caught them saying anything like that again about me, I’d put a bullet in their heads and have them skewered one of your arrows.”

“Why’d you have to bring me into this?”

“It was all I could think of. And I figured you wanted people to know I’m taken.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.” 

Hanzo moved onto her lower back, the area she claimed had the most pain. The archer was placed so he was on his knees and Amelie’s legs went through the space between. His palms dug deep into her stiff muscles, which didn’t move around as easily as the rest of her body. 

“Hmm, Hanzo,” Amelie got out, with some moaning in her voice. She clearly got some pleasure out of his hands. “Where’d you learn to give such good massages?”

“There was one place the clan members frequented that gave some of the best massages I’ve ever had. I’m trying my best to remember what they did.”

“This wasn’t one of those places where the masseuses are whores, right?”

“No, not at all. Genji would frequent one such place where the ladies gave out handjobs, but I never tried there.”

“Sounds like a seedy place.” 

“Believe me, it was.”

Amelie’s hips instinctively reacted to the hands caressing her back, rolling up into Hanzo and rubbing against his crotch. He was always caught off-guard in moments like this, with how forward his girlfriend could be. But damnit if she couldn’t turn him on in an instant.

“Ame, are you trying to seduce me?” Hanzo asked, keeping his hands on her lower back.

“Is it working?” Amelie replied, turning her head so her right eye could look back.

“You know it is.”

“Feel free to go lower.”

Hanzo’s eyes went down to her buttocks, now moved back to where it was. He had the feeling she wore these tight shorts just for him, cause they seemed like something inappropriate for a training session. But who was he to complain, when his girlfriend had one of the most perfect bodies he’d ever seen? So he dragged his hands in circles along her butt cheeks, continuing to elicit more moans from Amelie.

The archer felt greedy, his hands were so close to her vagina, even though it was still covered by her shorts. He ran his right hand along the middle seam running the whole way from back to front. His fingers followed the seam between her legs to her crotch. Amelie gave off a brief audible moan as he ran his fingers over her slit. He drew them away as he heard the moan, unsure if that’s what she wanted.

“I didn’t say stop,” Amelie complained when the sensation ended.

“Oh, you do want it?”

“Here, let me help.”

Without a second thought, Amelie reached her hands to slip down her shorts and underwear so that they rested around her thighs, willingly exposing herself. It was far from the first time Hanzo had seen her butt, but goddamn if he didn’t feel excited every time he saw it. Running his hands along her cheeks sent his heart racing.

“I know you want to,” Amelie kept egging him on. 

Hanzo dragged his right hand between her buttcheeks, running two fingers along the outside of her folds, spreading them apart, but not entering yet. He guessed the Frenchwoman was filling with anticipation, so he wanted to drag this out as long as he could. 

He inserted his fingers inside her slowly, with Amelie moaning drawing out in return. She was already wet in her anticipation, making Hanzo’s job all the easier. Every back and forth motion of his hand had Amelie’s hips rolling back onto him

“Continuez, nous ne commençons que,” Amelie said with her seductive voice.

Hanzo readjusted himself so his body could lie next to hers and his thumb could stroke her clit. His free hand ran along the length of her back, digging beneath her hair to reach her neck. Amelie didn’t move her hands or head from their position, just moving her hips in rhythm with the fingers inside her.

“Plus, plus je suis si proche,” Amelie called out.

Hanzo moved his fingers faster, getting a bigger reaction from his girlfriend. Moans came out at a more frequent rate, with her lower body occasionally spasming. When her orgasm finally hit, Amelie’s hips stuck up in the air as she let out one drawn out moan, continuing to when he drew his fingers out of her.

Hanzo slurped the juices off of his fingers and gave one of the buttcheeks a light smack, getting a short peep from his girlfiend. Amelie pulled her underwear and shorts back up, sliding off the bed so she could retrieve her bra and shirt, starting to put them back on.

“How was that?” Hanzo asked.

“It was exactly what I needed,” Amelie responded, still a bit flustered as she slid her top on.

“So you just came in wanting an orgasm?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“If you wanted that, we could’ve, . . . you know.”

“Well I was in the mood for this right now. Didn’t want to give you too much work.”

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Have a mission briefing to go over. Some talks happening in Milan in a few days Morrison wants me to be lookout for. Shouldn’t take too long. Did you have any ideas?”

“I was thinking we could go into town. Try someplace we’ve never been in before.”

“I’d like that.”


	8. Back to King's Row

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie and Hanzo head to King's Row for lookout duties, where Hanzo asks her something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another time jump here. It's specifically 3 years after the events of the "Alive" short.

The central square in the King’s Row district of London was crowded with humans and omnics alike, holding up signs for their support of omnic rights. It had been 3 years since Tekhartha Mondatta was assassinated in this very city square, and in that time, tensions flared up again between the humans and omnics, the Second Omnic Crisis briefly touched down on London, and the area had known relative peace since Overwatch was reestablished. 

To mark the anniversary of the event, Overwatch sent Lena Oxton out to her home-city to deliver a speech on how far human-omnic relations have come. It was a no-brainer, considering she was one of the most visible British agents, and her prior experience with the strained relations, most prevalent during the King’s Row Uprising against Null Sector. Of course, she wouldn’t head out there alone. 

On the rooftops above the crowd, Amelie Lacroix and Hanzo Shimada looked down, their weapons of choice at the ready for if anything would break out. The archer kept a wide lookout of the square as the Frenchwoman looked through her scope at specific targets.

Occasionally, Amelie would eye Lena as she made her speech before the crowd. Genji and three other British agents were stationed beside her, ready to act in case any attackers appeared. She looked to be in ease, talking about her own experiences both in Overwatch and on her own, dealing with the constant mistrust between man and machine. And how she felt her biggest failure was letting Mondatta get killed.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on anyone who knew. Amelie back on King’s Row, overlooking the spot where, as Widowmaker, she took the life of Mondatta. Even if she wasn’t here as a villain, the constant thoughts about what life would be like if she hadn’t killed the omnic leader still weighed on her head. These were thoughts she hadn’t had since Amelie began adjusting to normal life again. And they circled through her mind since she learned of this mission.

The speech went off without a hitch. No one attempted any murder plots, and everyone in attendance ended up safe. With their duties fulfilled, Hanzo and Amelie headed back to their lodgings at the Chancellor Hotel.

 

Hanzo’s body turned over on the bed, where he expected his body to be pressed up against Amelie’s backside. But Hanzo just found himself flat, his girlfriend missing. He opened up his eyes to find her side of the bed empty, the sheets all tossed about.

He saw Amelie in her underwear standing in the doorway leading out to the balcony, staring out into the city lights. She wasn’t outside, but the slight breeze made her hair rustle. Her face was out of his sight.

“Amelie, why aren’t you in bed?” Hanzo asked, not leaving the bed.

“I can’t sleep.”

“If you just come back to bed, I’m sure you can sleep.”

“Even when we were spooning before, it wasn’t working.”

“How long have you been there? Aren’t you cold?”

“About half an hour. Very, but what’s the cold to me anyway?”

“What are you looking at?”

“The streets, and the Mondatta statue.”

“You’ve been staring at that even during the mission. I don’t think that’s healthy.”

“Well I can’t help it. I’m responsible for that statue.”

The tone in her voice was one Hanzo hadn’t heard in a long time. One of uncertainty and fear. It didn’t suit the confident, full-of-herself woman he loved. And it made him worry she would do something rash, something she’d long regret.

Then, Hanzo had an idea. Something he planned for morning, but now seemed as good a time as any.

“Is there anyone by the statue?”

“There’s just some people walking by it, taking their pictures and leaving.”

“Would you like to go down there and take a look?”

Amelie didn’t know how to take his suggestion. Going down to the place of such horrible memories. She had nervous breakdowns before thinking about what Widowmaker’s done, and worried standing by such a pivotal site of the assassin’s history would set off something inside her, even though she was told all traces of the blue woman’s psyche had been wiped from her brain.

“I’ll be right by your side, and I won’t let anything bad happen,” Hanzo reassured her. That was something she could always depend on. The fellow sniper looking out for her, her lover wanting to be by her side. It made the prospect of being near that statue almost bearable. 

“I can’t promise if what happens will be pleasant.”

“Anything to make you feel better.”

 

The two got dressed quickly and made their way down to the streets below, empty compared to the mass of demonstrators before when Lena gave her speech. The statue wasn’t far from the steps of the Chancellor Hotel, where Hanzo and Amelie had the space all to themselves.

Hanzo looked at the monument in adoration. He found the details impressive, with the look on the Shambali robes properly regal, the child holding Mondatta’s hand properly optimistic, and the spinning orb in Mondatta’s other hand an interesting touch. 

Amelie had a different internal reaction. She guessed looking at this sight, standing right beside it, would give her flashbacks of not just her murder of Mondatta, but every other time Widowmaker killed someone important. It didn’t happen that way, but the Frenchwoman felt a pit develop in her stomach. Her body was aching to have some kind of reaction. Then she had one thought pass through her head, when Widowmaker lined up her shot at Mondatta by aiming through Lena. 

And all Amelie could do was cry, as the memory kept repeating itself.

“Amelie,” Hanzo comforted her once he heard her sniffling through her tears, putting an arm over a shoulder as she nuzzled her face into his shoulder. Heavy breathing from crying followed. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

“I thought I was over this, but I guess not,” Amelie mumbled out.

“Amelie,” Hanzo drabbled out, with a growing sense of confidence. “You never have to worry about harming anyone good ever again.”

“I know that,” Amelie replied. “As long as I have you and everyone else at Overwatch by my side.”

“No, it’s not just that,” Hanzo continued, with the blue glow of his spirit dragons starting to build out of his left side. “I want to help you, protect you from anything that may harm you now and always. I love you koishii.”

“I love you too, mon cher, but I am perfectly capable of,” Amelie stopped as she saw the light emanating from him. “Umm Hanzo, what are the dragons doing?”

“Amelie, getting to know you, falling in love with you, it’s something I wouldn’t trade for anything else. I’ve had quite the experience figuring out the person I want to be in Overwatch, but I’ve cherished the time spent with you most of all. So,”

The blue spirit dragons descended out of Hanzo’s clothes, forming a circle on the cobblestone surrounding the couple. The archer got down on one knee, pulling a velvet box out of his pocket. Amelie had to cover her mouth, tears still lining her face, as she already guessed in her mind what he was going to ask.

“Amelie Lacroix, will you marry me?” Hanzo asked, holding up the box in his hands.

Amelie was shocked as she took the box and opened up the lid. The ring inside had a pearl on the center surrounded with tiny sapphires. Her mind raced. Could she ever get into a happy marriage again after her last one ended in tragedy at her own hand? Then she realized who it was asking her. This was Hanzo Shimada. He’s always seen some goodness inside of her even in the brief time he knew her as Widowmaker. He’s been a loyal member of Overwatch ever since he joined. As her boyfriend, he’s been nothing but supportive and loving since they started dating. Someone with similar life experiences as her would no doubt be sympathetic to her struggles. As snipers, there wasn’t a better team in Overwatch than the two of them. As lovers, oh she truly hadn’t known anyone like him since Gerard. She was genuinely happy with Hanzo in the ways he said he was happy her.

Her tears of sadness quickly turned to one’s of happiness. There was no doubt in her mind what her answer would be.

“Oui Hanzo, mon amour” Amelie replied, as Hanzo got back up and they embraced each other tightly, bringing their lips together as tightly, lasting for a minute but feeling like longer. The newly engaged couple walked back towards the Chancellor Hotel with their arms intertwined. 

“You wanted to ask me here of all places?” Amelie had to ask, confused at the locale choice.

“I thought it would be symbolic, you know,” Hanzo explained. “The place where Widowmaker made her most public kill, where Amelie Lacroix was furthest away from the light. And now where we start this new chapter in our lives.”

“And I thought I was the dramatic one.”

“I suppose this leads into my next question,” Hanzo stared at the woman who will soon be his wife. “Who’ll be the maid of honor?”

“And who’ll be the best man?” Amelie quickly shot back at him, staring at his face as well.

After continuing to stare at each other as they walked up the hotel lobby, somehow, they both knew who their choices would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to pucca-the-tree who drew art of this chapter when I asked her too.   
> http://pucca-art-bloggy.tumblr.com/post/161666193640/buddy-of-mine-asked-if-i-could-doodle-the-proposal#notes


	9. The Best Man and Maid of Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie and Hanzo ask Lena and Genji for something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one probably requires reading some of my other fics. Preferably ones that have Lena and Genji in them.

Genji arrived outside Hanzo and Amelie’s hotel door, knocking on the door. It was 10 in the morning and the cyborg was responding to a message his brother sent him in the middle of the night. Given the timetable they had to work with, their jet back to Gibraltar was to leave at 1, he hoped it would pass by quick.

“Oi Genji!” the voice of Lena came down the hallway, as she ran and jumped on the ninja’s back

“Hello Lena,” Genji replied, shaking her off himself. “You get a message from Hanzo and Amelie?”

“You got one too?”

“Yeah. Now I’m wondering what they want with us.”

“Can’t be that big. Probably just admiring how inspirational my speech was last night.”

“I’ve heard plenty like that.”

“But were they delivered with such pose and gusto?”

“I’ve heard more pose coming from yakuza after getting drunk on sake.”

“Well now you’re just being daft.”

Hanzo opened the door in the middle of their bickering, not completely dressed yet, with his shirt unbuttoned and a toothbrush in his mouth, still brushing.

“Ah, you’re both here,” Hanzo clearly pointed out, his mouth still full of toothpaste suds.

“Of course, brother. Where’s,”

“Amelie’s in the bathroom, she should be out shortly,” Hanzo led them both inside, having them sit on two desk chairs in the hotel room. He went back into the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out of his mouth. Lena and Genji heard some talking between them through the door before they re-emerged. Amelie wore a white bathroom robe, rubbing a towel through her hair to dry it

“Bonjour you two,” Amelie giddily greeted the two guests.

“Someone seems pretty chipper today,” Genji remarked.

“Well I have good reason to be,” Amelie said as she and her fiancé sat across from them on the bed.

“So what is it you two want?” Lena asked, hoping to get this over with so they could head back to Gibraltar.

Amelie held out her right hand in front of her two other friends, drawing attention to the ring Hanzo gave her the night before. Sunlight sparkled through the tiny sapphires. 

“Is-is that?” Lena stammered out, not finishing her thought.

“Yes, Hanzo asked me last night,” Amelie jubilantly replied, throwing her arms around Hanzo, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Congratulations you two!” Genji immediately became happy for his brother.

“Yeah, congrats,” Lena replied as well, with considerably less enthusiasm, looking towards the room’s carpet.

“You two are the first ones we told,” Hanzo declared.

“Really?

“Cause after brief deliberation,” Amelie continued Hanzo’s train of thought. “We want the two of you to be the maid of honor and best man.”

“Oh I’d be glad to,” Genji quickly replied. “Want to be part of your special day. Did you settle on a date yet?”

“Oh we won’t decide for a while. Lena, what do you think?” Hanzo directed at the Brit. She still looked down at the floor, but also worked to avoid looking at the engaged couple at all.

“Umm, I think Lena and I need some alone time,” Amelie mentioned, urging the Shimada brothers to leave. Hanzo got the message, taking Genji out to the hallway to discuss whatever plans he had for the wedding so far. Lena only looked back at Amelie once she knew they were the only two in the room. Both had concerned looks on their faces.

“So, you’re getting married, to Hanzo,” Lena had a hard time getting that statement out.

“Lena, I know this must be hard for you, considering all that we’ve been through together.” 

“You don’t say!” Lena borderline shouted. “After I poured my heart out to you and waited so many years to get to know you again. You know how much I love you!”

“I’ve been dating Hanzo for 2 years now. Did you not think it would eventually get to this point?”

“To be honest, I’d thought you’d eventually see I’m better for you than him and we’d run off together.”

“You were there on our first date. You and Genji helped get us together.”

“I was just being a good friend, and I didn’t think it’d last this long.”

“If it’s any consideration, you’ll still be the only woman I’ve ever been with. That has to account for something.”

Lena just continued to look away, her hands covering her face, worried that she would start crying.

“Look Lena, we’re still best friends, and I wouldn’t ask you to be my maid of honor if I didn’t trust you. We’ll be together on this every step of the way. I want you by my side when I get married again. If I’m asking too much from you, just let me know.”

Lena continued to look away, and Amelie became more forceful in convincing her. She dragged her fingers along her friends face. They became stiff and the Frenchwoman forced the Brit to look her in the eyes. Both exchanged looks of sincerity, as Amelie wanted her friend to understand and be by her side, while Lena had a sad look, feeling a bit betrayed. 

In a way to soothe Lena’s worries, Amelie reached her head out and planted a gentle kiss on Lena’s lips. The Brit remembered how delicate they were, how easily she could be put under her spell. 

“So will you do this Lena? For me?” Amelie asked once again, looking into her eyes to drive the point home.

“For you, anything,” Lena was finally convinced.


	10. Forgiveness in Algiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie and Hanzo find one of the last persons responsible for Widowmaker in Algiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another short thing this time and I understand if this isn't as good as my other chapters.

The streets of Algiers were recovering from a recent sandstorm, with workers still clearing the streets of the dust. Amelie and Hanzo walked down the Rue Mohamed Belouziad, trying to avoid these piles of sand, looking for a name the Frenchwoman read about. Their faces were covered to deal with the harsh sunlight.

Amelie was brought to Algiers because of a name, one of many on the list Winston gave her a few years ago. The list of everyone else living, free and incarcerated, responsible for turning her into Widowmaker. She had visited a few of them already, though she didn’t go to the extremes of killing them like before. Instead, she wanted to know what their lives had become since Talon fell.

They found their address on the Rue Du Dr Laveran, a neighborhood that still had some trees, but the same unimpressive late 20th century building style that was hidden beneath the newer rises along the coast. Hopefully the two agents would find their target.

Aishah Ahmed was her name. How she was involved, Amelie wasn’t sure yet.

Amelie knocked on the door, hoping there would a response from the Algerian woman. There weren’t any apartment buzzers outside the door, so she could only assume this was a single unit. 

“What if she isn’t here?” Hanzo inquired.

“We can wait. Our mission is to bring her in after all,” Amelie explained.

“Qui est là? Qu'est-ce que tu veux?” a heavy Arabic accented voice on the other side asked.

Amelie was surprised to hear French, but it made her job all the easier. “Nous avons des questions sur une perturbation dans la rue,” she asked.

After a few seconds of waiting, the two heard some bolts being unlocked. The door opened revealing a woman in her 40’s with wrinkles on her face from her harsh life experiences. She wore a hijab and loose fitting clothes appropriate for the warm Mediterranean climate. 

This was Aishah Ahmed. Their target.

Whatever diplomatic pretense they tried coming under went out the window as Hanzo grabbed the woman by the neck hard enough to pick her up from the ground, walking insider her place, threatening to throw her against a wall. Aishah tried fighting by scratching her fingernails into Hanzo’s arm, but he carried on through the pain.

“Hanzo!” Amelie shouted. “Let her down!”

Hanzo, realizing there was no need to threaten their target like this, loosened his grip and Aishah dropped to the floor. She rubbed her throat, trying to lessen the pain.

“Vous Overwatch les gens s'aggravent,” Aishah got out with her voice now sounding raspy.

“Silencieux! J'ai des affaires inachevées avec vous,” Amelie calmly threatened.

Aishah took a look at the woman making her threats. She recognized her face from some old Talon files. It took her a bit in her head to find the right name, since they weren’t something she had to go through in nearly a decade. But seeing this tall woman speaking French, armed with a sniper rifle, and saying she had unfinished business. She had heard of the woman who was formally Widowmaker now fighting for Overwatch under the name Huntress. But the Algerian woman never thought she’d come for her personally.

“Amelie Lacroix?” Aishah realized. “Je n'ai jamais pensé voir le jour.”

“Of course you Talon cronies never guess the day.”

“Oh, your friend here doesn’t speak French?”

“I’m learning,” Hanzo bitterly responded.

“Aishah Ahmed, you’re under arrest for your Talon activities and conspiring against Overwatch,” Amelie ordered.

Aishah didn’t try to argue what she did. She was more confused about why this was happening now. “I’m being arrested for something I did 15 years ago?”

“Well you are one of the last Talon members responsible for Widowmaker. Just took a long time getting around to you.”

“But I had nothing to do with the science for her creation.”

“Not my problem.”

Amelie could do the easy thing here. Take Aishah back to base now and never see her again, like all the other criminals she brought in. But this woman must have known about past operations here. The ones that caught Gerard’s attention the most. And the one that got Gerard away from her as Talon kidnapped her. Amelie had to know.

“Before we take you in, probably to rot away for the rest of your days, tell me what you know of Gerard.”

“Gerard,” Aishah repeated, giving a few brief chuckles. Oh I was well aware of Gerard Lacroix. 

“If you’re aware of my Talon past, you know I was part of a Talon operation in North Africa, with bases in Casablanca, Algiers, Tunis, Tripoli, and Alexandria. Planning out acts of sabotage against Helix Securities and their subsidiaries in the region. 

When we got word Gerard was among the Overwatch agents coming to fight us, we knew it was the time to carry out our plan for you. He and his squad of agents came right here to Algiers, the start of their operations. They defeated us after a hard-fought battle, and I escaped, but we knew with his wife defenseless, we knew our plan would work. Defeat Gerard right at his heart.

So if your precious Gerard didn’t come looking for me, you would not have become Widowmaker. Maybe not then, but eventually.”

Amelie tried maintaining her composure throughout the story, but listening to her talk about Gerard like that, her brain snapped. So the Frenchwoman sucker punched her target, causing Aishah to collapse to the floor.

Aishah rubbed her jaw trying to soothe the pain, but it didn’t take long before Amelie grabbed her hands and cuffed them behind her back, bringing the Algerian woman up to her feet and starting to walk her towards the door.

“I never bothered asking. Who’s your friend?” Aishah wondered out loud.

“This is Hanzo Shimada. My fiancé.”

“Fiancé?”

“Oh, you didn’t think I could love again, did you? We’re two of a kind actually. He’s had to deal with killing a loved one too. And we first met when I was still Widowmaker. When this is all over, consider yourself forgiven.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

Amelie lead Aishah and Hanzo out of her apartment, taking her prisoner back to their small jet, heading back across the Mediterranean to Gibraltar.


	11. The Wedding Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie and Hanzo finally have their wedding in Hanamura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. I've been way to busy at work and finding the right mindset to continue this, but don't think I've forgotten this at all.

Amelie looked over himself in the room’s mirror, eyeing herself in the wedding dress up and down. It was a shade of pearl white and it didn’t over her feet. It cut off just short enough so there wouldn’t any potential grass stains. The folds towards the bottom and around where the dress rested on her chest were immovable. Nothing would ruin this day for Amelie Lacroix. 

The Frenchwoman also eyed the hairstyle she sported. As part of a compromise with Hanzo’s parents in having some Japanese traditions in their son’s wedding, Amelie’s hair was rolled into a bun resting against the right side of her head held together with cherry blossoms picked from the trees surrounding Hanamura. 

There were four other people in the room with her. Her father Hugo, Lena Oxton, Angela Ziegler, and Ana Amari were all prepared and ready to make their entrance as Amelie’s bridal party. The bridesmaids had on purple dresses, preparing to carry down bouquets of sakurasou flowers. Ana and Angela were excited to have the ceremony start, while Lena fidgeted around, both from wanting to get this over with and having a hard time with her tight dress.

There was a knock on the door, to which Angela went to answer it.

“Lena, I believe it’s for you,” Angela told the group, letting the guest inside. In walked in a redhead wearing a green dress, eying the maid of honor.

“Em, what you doing?” Lena panicked, attempting to get the girl she brought along out. “This room is for the bridal party.”

“Should have a sign on the door that says that. Just wanted to see more of my girl,” Emily replied, planning to make a suggestive remark about how she never gets to see Lena in a dress, but her eyes were drawn to the radiant bride.

“Oh, you must be Amelie. My god, you look gorgeous!” Emily gave the Frenchwoman a hug, but backed off once she realized the dress wouldn’t look good with too many other people touching it.

“And you’re with Lena, I presume?” Amelie 

“Yep. The name’s Emily and I’m her date.”

Her date? Lena didn’t say anything about bringing a date. And wasn’t this the Emily she said she dated and broke up with a few years ago? The one she didn’t like talking about? She seemed pretty enough, but kind of ordinary on a first impression. What could Lena see in this girl anyway? 

“Seriously Em, you need anything?” Lena continued to try and push Emily out, feeling awkward being in the same room with her and Amelie.

“What, I can’t see you before you do your duties?” Emily fought back, not as well as she’d hoped.

“No, not at all love. It’s just you’re here, and she’s here. Emily and Amelie in the same room. Two of, . . . the important woman in my life.”

“Ooooh,” Emily finally got the point. She thought Lena would go on more with her half-assed explanation, so she planted a kiss, hoping to make Lena remember who she was here with.

“Well, I won’t keep you all too long. See you after the ceremony,” Emily said as she walked out the door, going to take her seat in the gardens.

“So, that was Emily?” Amelie asked once she was certain Lena’s date was out of range of their conversation.

“Yep, in the flesh.”

“I thought you two broke up how long ago?”

“Four years ago, when Overwatch was still outlawed. I figured I needed a date for this thing.”

“And she’s fine with this?”

“Don’t know how fine, but who’d turn down a free trip to Japan?”

Another knock on the door followed and Ana answered this time. “We’re ready for the bridesmaids now,” one of the attendants stated, prompting Ana and Angela to head outside to start their wedding march. Lena and Amelie were left to themselves. 

“Lena, again I know after all we’ve been through, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now.”

“No Amelie, I’m seriously happy for you. God knows you deserve all the happiness in the world right now.”

“You’re certainly a braver woman than I, Lena.”

“What’re you talking about? You’re the one getting married. Again.”

Amelie drew her hand under Lena’s chin, drawing the Brit’s stare before pecking her lips against Lena’s. Too short for the Brit’s liking, but beggars can’t be choosers at the moment.

“Go. Be the best maid of honor you can be.”

Lena left with a nervous smile on her face, looking to find where Ana and Angela went off to. Amelie was left to her own, trying to put herself in the proper wedding mindset for the second time in her life.

But then Amelie remembered her father was still in the room, having seen the kiss between her and Lena.

“Um, Amelie?” Hugo asked most curiously. “Tu tiens à expliquer ça?”

“C'est une longue histoire,” Amelie offered an excuse, breathing in and out in slow, meditative ways she learned. Trying to ease her fast, pumping heart. 

Hugo just admired his daughter

“Ma fille, vous êtes tout aussi belle que votre premier marriage,” Hugo said, with tears starting to form.

“Espérons que ça dure cette fois,” Amelie tried to joke, but ended up with her eyes starting to tear up too.

“Vous êtes prêt?” Hugo asked, offering his daughter an arm to escort out. 

“Aussi prêt que jamais,” Amelie wrapped her right arm around her father’s, walking outside her preparation room into the hallways of the Japanese castle. 

The interior was decorated with Japanese flowers and various old Shimada family pictures. Amelie recognized a younger Hanzo and Genji in some of them in family portraits where they both had dour expressions on their faces. The rest she could only assume were from old Shimada weddings, cause she didn’t recognize anyone else aside from Hanzo’s parents. She wondered if they had gotten used to the idea of their son getting married to a strange European woman he knew from his world travelling. She didn’t get off on the right foot with his father, but his mother was more than receptive to her. Well they had plenty of time to formally get used to it now.

As they reached the arch leading out to the Hanamura gardens, Amelie and Hugo made their grand entrance. The crowd looked back at the bride started making her march as music started playing. The right side was composed of members of Overwatch Amelie invited. It paled in comparison to the left, which was made up of the Shimada’s guests. 

Down at the end of the aisle Amelie could see her maids and the groomsmen, but Hanzo was what stood out for her. For once, his hair wasn’t fashioned in a ponytail, but straight down touching his shoulders of his jacket. He also wore a blue tie and had some blossoms coming out of his front jacket pocket. 

His groomsmen, aside from Genji, were men he knew from his yakuza days. She wasn’t particularly familiar with them, nor were her bridesmaids, standing with their pink bouquets. But that thought quickly faded from Amelie’s head. 

The only thing on her mind was Hanzo. 

Hugo put a kiss on his daughter’s cheek, giving Hanzo an approving look before letting go of her hand. He went to his seat next to his wife as Amelie took her spot next to Hanzo in front of the priest. 

“You look so beautiful,” Amelie whispered to her future husband.

“I was gonna say that,” Hanzo replied.

“Minasan, kon’nichiwa,” the priest addressed the crowd. “Don’t worry, I do speak English. It’s why I was brought in for this ceremony. French, not so much. I must say it’s an honor being in the presence of so many members of Overwatch and an even greater honor to wed two of its members. Hanzo and Amelie couldn’ve picked a better day to get married

Now I believe you two have some vows you’d like to say?” the priest asked.

Hanzo pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket and unfolded it, only taking a brief glance at it before staring into Amelie’s eyes. 

“Amelie,” Hanzo started out a bit nervously. “I can say the only thing I regret about our relationship is that I wish we met under better circumstances. I’ve known you as both Amelie and Widowmaker, and I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman more dedicated to her cause. Not to mention a more beautiful woman. I know you’re a more than capable soldier, but I swear I will protect you when you can’t do it on your own. And I will love and cherish you for the remaining days of my life.”

Amelie didn’t have a similar sheet of paper to read off of, but she did have tears starting to form.

“Hanzo, I didn’t think I could be this lucky and happy in my life again. When I came back from being Widowmaker, I was lost. Sure I was in Overwatch’s custody, but I never felt more alone. And when I did decide to join Overwatch, it took me far too long to properly build trust with most of the organization, given my history. So when we were properly introduced to each other, as myself, I instantly felt something between us. I wasn’t sure what, but it was something. And I don’t regret a single thing about our relationship.

So I will protect, love and cherish you for the remaining days of my life. Hopefully I won’t kill you by then.”

A brief laugh from the crowd followed, though Lena kept a straight face.

“So, Hanzo Shimada,” the priest asked the groom. “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife to love, honor, and cherish till death?”

“Watashi ga uarimasu,” Hanzo replied without a hint of hesitation.

“And do you, Amelie Lacroix, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband to love, honor, and cherish till death?”

“Je fais,” Amelie replied as well.

“By the powers invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” 

 

The reception took place in a different room of the Hanamura castle, one that had an exquisite view of the surrounding Tokyo buildings.

A table with all the wedding gifts was situated near the table where the cake was. Most of them were either gift cards or small decorations for their quarters. Neither Amelie or Hanzo planned on getting a permanent residence yet, since they were still dedicated members of Overwatch, so they didn’t ask for too much. 

Only one of the cards was open, tossed aside with all the rest. It was from Sombra, who wasn’t invited since she was still held in prison. Leave it to a hacker, even one who’s had her cybernetics removed, to figure out what was happening in the outside world while behind bars. 

Amelie read what it said during a look at all the gifts and tossed it aside, not wanting to be reminded of any other of her past Talon associates. It read:

My dearest amiga,

Sorry I couldn’t make the wedding. You know, with you putting me in prison and all. You couldn’t find it in your heart to invite your old friend? I’m sure I, Gabe, and Akande would’ve gotten ones if Talon was still around.

It’s a shame you’re marrying that Shimada guy instead of someone like Tracer. Now that’d be a ceremony I’d want to see, with all the explaining you two would have to do. I assume the ceremony is just the boring “till death do us part” spiel.

Anyways, I figured I give you my best wishes on the other side. Hopefully you’ll actually visit someday so we can catch up.

Sombra

P.S., Akande sends his regards. 

The reception continued without a hitch. All the guests in attendance got along for the most part, even if some couldn’t break through some language barriers. Hanzo and Amelie did the traditional shove a piece of wedding cake into their mouths. And their first dance as a married couple was to the Edith Piaf song “La Vie En Rose.”

Amongst all this, Lena abandoned her date to go outside for a moment.

The Brit stood against a wooden railing overlooking the vast Tokyo highrises. Lights were flickering on and off in various buildings. Cars and other people passed by on the streets below, with slight winds trying to ruffle her hair. Lena wondered if it was possible to look beyond the skyscrapers to the mountains in the distance.

Lena heard the sliding door open and close, seeing the best man coming out to join her. “Oh hey Genji.”

“Lena,” Genji said as he joined his compatriot. “The party’s happening inside.”

“Figured I needed to slow down a bit.”

“Never thought I’d hear that coming from you.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Was a good ceremony, I’d have to say.”

Lena didn’t respond. She just continued to look out over the cityscape, lost in thought.

“I always liked the view from here,” Genji tried getting the conversation rolling again. “Reminds me of how big this city is. How big the world is.”

The attempt at introspective thought did not elicit a response from the maid of honor.

“What’s on your mind, Lena?” Genji tried again.

“Thinking a lot lately. About the future.”

“What about it?”

“Amelie getting married and all has me thinking about my future. We’re not gonna be in Overwatch forever, Genji. As much as Jack likes the idea of dying and being buried in his uniform, I want some kind of life where, eventually, I can take things slower. Not have to worry as much about saving the world.”

“You still love her, don’t you?”

“Not easy getting over someone as beautiful as Amelie.”

“What about Emily? You wouldn’ve brought her along if you didn’t feel something for her.”

“That’s the thing,” Lena complained. “I’m not sure how we stand now. We broke up the first time back when Overwatch was still outlawed because I was sure I couldn’t give her the life she wanted. Being a vigilante, still trying to covertly save the world. And it’s not gonna be any easier now that we’re official again. Believe me, she was just as surprised as I was when I decided to ask her to be my date. But who knows when those problems will come up again?”

Genji moved himself closer to Lena, putting a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t mind, as Genji was one of her closest friends since she joined Overwatch. He took off his facemask, letting his scarred face breath in the night air.

“You know Lena, I was thinking about asking you something.”

“I swear Genji, if you propose to me right now, I will smack you so hard every button in that robot body of yours will come loose.”

“No! Geez Lena, why would spawn that out of nowhere?”

“Oh, thank god, Genji. You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I was thinking of something else.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“Say in 10 years, neither of us end up married for whatever reason. If we’re both up for it, we can get married just to make sure we end up with someone we like and care for.”

A marriage pact? That sounded like the something kids in primary school would make. And to be honest, it would be something Lena would make back then. As adults? It seemed kind of petty. Probably a last ditch attempt for Genji to find some kind of happiness.

“Make it 20 years,” Lena demanded, thinking Genji would never accept it.

“15.”

“12.”

“Deal,” Genji agreed with a laugh.

Lena took a second to realize she accepted Genji’s offer, feeling stupid enough to bash her head against the railing.

“No fair! You can’t hold me to that!” Lena shouted.

“I don’t have to hold you to anything for another 12 years.”

“Come on mate, why’d you have to do that? What do you even see in me anyway?”

“We make a great team, don’t you think?”

“That doesn’t always lead to romantic chemistry. We tried that already, remember?”

“Well you were only 19 then. Figured you mature a bit more since then.”

“I have, Genji, but I haven’t really felt that way about you for a long time.”

“I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Lena Oxton. We’ve had our fair share of adventures.”

“Does that include the times we got my accelerator and your armor broken?”

“Most of them were successes if I remember correctly.”

“Genji, you’re asking a lot from me right now. Now of all times. And what about if I’m not emotionally or sexually invested?”

“It’s not a commitment for right now. It’s for 12 years from now. A lot can happen between now and then.”

That’s true, Lena thought. 12 years is a long time after all. Maybe she would meet someone new. Maybe things with Emily would progress. Maybe, god forbid, something else happens in Amelie’s life. But Genji? Well their previous attempt at a relationship was even more short-lived than most of her school dates. And she certainly respected the cyborg enough for him to be one of her best friends. But this?

I’ve done dumber things in my life, Lena finally convinced herself.

“You know what Genji? Challenge accepted. And that’s only if we’re not already married, right?”

“Of course. I’d guess polyamory isn’t your thing.”

“You’d be surprised by the things I’d try.”

Thinking an agreement was reached, Genji reached out a metallic hand, looking for a handshake to seal the deal. Right now, Lena felt like she had nothing to lose in this arrangement. So she reached out her hand to shake his.

The topic of divorce better come up later, Lena thought to herself.

“I look forward to this. Unless I find a wife before then,” Genji tried joking.

“Not if I beat you to it,” Lena quickly replied.

 

Once the reception had died down and the guests returned to their rooms, Amelie and Hanzo made their way to Hanzo’s old bedroom, especially made up for them on their wedding night. The newlyweds hardly took notice of the flowers and notices of congratulations all over the place as they entered already kissing with Amelie working on unbuttoning Hanzo’s shirt once he tossed his jacket aside. Hanzo ran a hand along his wife’s back, unzipping the back of her wedding dress and grabbing her butt as the hand reached her lower back.

Amelie bit her husband’s neck as she pulled the dress down from around her chest and let it slide down to her feet, leaving her just in her panties. Hanzo threw aside his shirt and undid his pants, sliding them and his underwear down his legs, and helping Amelie do the same with her panties.

Once they were both naked, Amelie moved her head nearer to her husband’s ear, licking his earlobe. Hanzo’s hand reached down to her buttocks.

“Oh Hanzo,” Amelie moaned into his ear. “I want you to have me.”

Hanzo knew where she was heading with this, but got the feeling she could’ve come up with a more original line to seduce him. “We’ve already had each other so many times, what else could there be?”

“There is one thing I’ve always wanted to try.”

Amelie broke away from their embrace to dig through a bag she brought, looking to find one particular prop she brought. Hanzo had never known his Amelie to be particularly kinky, but since they’d be spending the rest of their lives together, she was probably thinking ahead in how to keep their sex life interesting.

Amelie pulled out her wrist-mounted grabbling hook and fastened it to her left wrist, launching the hook at the ceiling. When the hook connected to one of the support beams, she lifted herself in the air, slowly spinning once all the cord was wound up.

Amelie stoked her right hand down her side, bending her legs at the knees and spreading them. A tantalizing sight for her husband this night. 

“J'attends, mon cher” Amelie begged. “Don’t want my arm falling out.”

As soon as Hanzo approached her and ran her hands along her legs, he positioned them along his shoulders. She tightened her calves along his back, forcing him closer to her wetness. Hanzo’s hand rested on her hips as his tongue darted around Amelie’s folds and worked its way inside her vagina.

Amelie disengaged the grappling hook and took it off as it completely reset itself, throwing it to the floor. Both of her hands were now buried in Hanzo’s hair, trying to force her new husband deeper and deeper inside her. Amelie took in deep breaths, working to delay her moaning and her building orgasm. Hanzo walked slowly over the bed, attempting to maintain is concentration on licking Amelie’s pussy. Occasionally his legs wobbled, as he struggled to maintain his wife’s weight on his shoulders.

As he felt his legs hit the edge of the bedframe, Hanzo’s hands forced Amelie’s hips backward, having her fall to the bed. Amelie felt her support give way, but she broke out in laughter as she felt her back hit the covers of the bed. Hanzo crawled onto the bed over his new wife, dotting a trail of kisses from her hipbones up her abdomen. He circled his tongue around Amelie’s nipples, drawing a few breathy moans before moving on to her neck, then lips.

The two wrapped their arms around their spouse’s backs as they continued to kiss. They had spent many a night like this before, but being married now gave their passion whole new meaning. Hanzo firmly planted his calved along the sheets, leaning back as he carried Amelie up with him, her legs going around his back as well.

The Frenchwoman urged her hips slightly forward as she could feel Hanzo’s hard cock pressing up against her. Her right hand released its grip on Hanzo’s back to guide his erection inside her. Amelie slid up and down, with the fluids starting to drip out of her vagina making her slide easier. Amelie had no intention of rubbing herself down there to try and stimulate herself even more. She was confident in her husband’s ability to satisfy her. If not now, well they had plenty of opportunities for that this evening.

“How long do you think you can go?” Amelie asked.

“As long as we can go,” Hanzo responded as he slapped a buttcheek, urging Amelie to go faster.

 

Amelie’s eyes flickered open, her eyelids still heavy from the newlywed’s long night of lovemaking. Hanzo was still asleep as she was snuggled against Hanzo’s chest, his right arm curled around her back, their hair tangled up in each other’s. She dragged a finger across his chest, reaching her head to kiss the skin as she circled his right nipple.

As Amelie dragged her hands from underneath the bedsheets, she felt something curious moving up her right arm. One of Hanzo’s dragons twisted itself around Amelie’s her arm. She raised it up, curious if it would leave, but the dragon stayed. It looked back at her with the same curiosity, it’s blue glow managing to stand out from the sunlight coming in.

Amelie contemplated waking Hanzo to tell him what she saw, but she figured it would be a surprise for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://pucca-art-bloggy.tumblr.com/post/165465705305/kind-of-a-continuation-of-the-thing-i-drew-from-my#notes  
> Special thanks to puck-the-tree for doing fan art of this chapter.


	12. Doomfist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doomfist has escaped from Numbani and Amelie and Hanzo are part of the team sent in to stop the former Talon leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written less as a ship story and more a reason to put Doomfist and Orisa in my stories.

After their wedding, Amelie and Hanzo spent a honeymoon weekend each at a vacation destination in their countries. Hanzo took his wife to the island of Okinawa, taking in the fusion of traditional Japanese culture with some South Pacific elements thrown in. The two had a bit too much fun there as a sexual incident at their hotel’s onsen got them kicked out. 

Amelie took her husband to the glitz of Monaco, spending their days along the French Riviera beaches watching boats go by and their nights in the casinos trying their luck. Hanzo was impressed by Amelie’s skills rolling the dice at the craps table, managing to get 7’s and 11’s with ease, along with whatever Hanzo placed his chips. She said rolling the right number of the dice comes with as much ease as finding a headshot on a target. It eventually got to the point where they were asked to leave the table due to winning thousands of Euros.

But the honeymoon period wasn’t meant to last, for when they came back to duty at Watchpoint: Gibraltar, the two got reports of a prison break of a Helix Security facility near Numbani. And of course, the newlyweds were part of the team organized to contain whoever escaped. 

The team sent in, aside from Hanzo and Amelie, consisted of Lena, Genji, Lucio, Winston, Jack, and Angela. The team was put together so fast that only Winston, Jack, and Angela were the only ones who knew the only prisoner who escaped. 

“So, who is it we have to catch?” Amelie spoke for the other team members as they were on the jet flying between Gibraltar and Numbani. 

“Someone who’s been off our radar for a long time,” Winston replied. “And I’m afraid it’s someone you have history with, Amelie.”

“Ouais? Who?”

“Akande Ogundimu. Doomfist. He escaped the Helix prison facility simply by punching his way out. And our reports say he’s been hiding out and menacing Numbani for the past few days.”

Doomfist. A name Amelie had completely purged from her mind since becoming herself again. The last things she remembered doing involving that man were attempting to retrieve his golden gauntlet from the Overwatch museum and helping solidify his place as Talon’s head in Venice. That is, before Overwatch subdued him in these Numbani streets they were heading to. 

Thinking about him again sent shocks down Amelie’s spine. The power he held in that gauntlet, powerful enough to level skyscrapers, and briefly rip Lena out of the normal timeflow. But if Overwatch could defeat him before, they could do it again.

“We’re making a rendezvous with someone there,” Winston announced. “Someone else with experience dealing with Doomfist.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” Lena asked.

“Efi Oladele. Someone who’s been part of our youth program. Fine young girl last I remember.”

“She’s just a child?” Amelie asked, uncertain why they wouid be meeting with a kid.

“I’ve seen her work. Most impressive. She even outfitted one of Numbani’s OR-15 omnics to better defend Numbani and deal with Doomfist.”

Instead of landing at the Adawe International Terminal at the Numbani airport, which would be typical of anyone landing in the city, the jet landed in a designated landing area in the heart of the city, overseen by the Nigerian military. Part of Doomfist’s citywide rampage was raiding the airport, since his gauntlet was about to shipped outside the county for security reasons. A few dozen officers were outlining plans in Unity Plaza as they agents disembarked from their jet.

“You’re with Overwatch?” one of the Nigerian army officials inquired, unmistaken by the presence of an armored gorilla.

“That we are,” Winston replied. “I brought along enough Overwatch agents to,”

“I know who you all are, spare me the chit-chat.”

“So, what’s the situation here?”

“We have OR-15 units on guard throughout the city. The most prominent spots Doomfist has been spotting are at the airport and Unity Plaza. He has broken into the Numbani heritage museum to retrieve the gauntlet back, so he is armed and extremely dangerous.”

“How was he able to get the gauntlet so easy?”

“Doomfist is quite the skilled fighter, as I’m sure you know. He took out the guards with ease. And when the OR-15’s came to stop them, he simply punched them into the buildings. Only one has had luck so far slowing him down. One redesigned by a teenager.”

“Sounds like our Efi. Any idea where they are?” 

“A few blocks beyond the barricade. Efi is leading a squad of OR-15’s, with that one she built named Orisa with them. You want to find them, be my guest.” Winston led the team behind a barricade and through the barren streets. The once populous boulevards of Numbani were empty, with cars flipped over and a few buildings having giant craters implanted on their sides. This was far from the Numbani Overwatch had protected many times in the past. This was a war zone they were hoping to avoid. 

Eventually, the team came across a squad of OR-15’s in the distance, with one teenager hiding behind a car fiddling with some homemade controls, possibly controlling the squad protecting the city. 

“Efi!” Winston greeted the young African. 

“Winston!” Efi greeted the gorilla. “Who are they?”

“So you’re the Efi we’ve been hearing so much about,” Lena complimented the girl. “You built one these omnics?”

“Yeah Orisa. She’s leading the rest of those OR-15’s,” Efi said looking through a pair of binoculars. 

Orisa stood guard with the other six OR-15’s, their shields deployed and the lead omnic keeping a hand on the drum mounted on her back, ready to give her compatriots extra power if needed. 

“Do you hear that?” an OR-15 mentioned, getting the other’s attention. Orisa sensitive hearing sensors had her think she heard electricity crackling. It must have come from the glass skyscraper to her left.

Glass shattered above the robots from one of the upper skyscraper floors. Little falling triangles didn’t make dents on the omnic’s metal plating as they looked up, but a hulking figure with dark skin, no shirt, and armed with a giant golden gauntlet practically stood still in the air, calculating where to land.

“Meteor Strike!” the figure shouted, diving gauntlet first into the ground below. He landed with a crash as the sheer force of the fist striking the road pulverized four 0R-15’s. The man was posed crouching over as his fist was at the center of the crater he created, and stood up as if nothing happened.

Akande Ogundimu. A former Talon leader. The man known to the world as Doomfist.

Orisa quickly planted her drum on the pavement, shooting beams of power to the surviving units, so it didn’t give them enough 

“Cease your resistance!” Orisa demanded, firing her fusion driver at the mobile target. 

“I hope you got more than a fresh coat of paint,” Akande threatened, drawing his gauntlet back as it cackled with blue bolts. He threw it forward, sending him towards the robot. Orisa, as a last defense, surrounded herself with a gold exterior a split second before Akande’s gauntlet made contact against her. There was less damaging than it would have been if she hadn’t, but the sheer force still sent the omnic into one of the parked cars.

“Believe that’s our cue team,” Winston proclaimed, deciding he couldn’t stand by idle any longer. “Go, assume positions!” 

Winston, Lena, Genji, and Lucio dived in straight for the target while Hanzo and Amelie worked to reach their positions on the rooftops. 

“You?” Akande remarked to the Overwatch agents heading towards him like a backhanded comment. “I remember you,” he said as he cracked his neck, ready for the onslaught. 

Lena, Genji, and Lucio started the encounter by running circles around the target, trying to force Akande to go after one of them to leave him vulnerable to outside attack. Amelie made her way up a nearby skyscraper to get a view, popping her scope up to try and get a headshot to put Doomfist’s rampage to a quick end. But with how fast and agile the middle-aged man moved on the ground and in the air, she couldn’t manage to find the perfect shot.

Akande was able to keep pace with the three main Overwatch attackers despite their mobility. His gauntlet managed to land a few hits on Genji and Lena, nothing their armor and time travel couldn’t handle. When he landed a hit on Lucio, it broke the DJ’s skates and leg armor, taking him out of the fight. 

An arrow skirted past the armor covering Akande’s right ear, causing the fighter to look behind him to find Hanzo by the skyscraper knocking another arrow on his bow to fire at his head. He launched the arrow, but somehow, Akande sensed Winston was leaping at him at the same time, so he grabbed the monkey with his gauntlet and threw his body in the oncoming path of the arrow before leaping over to the archer. He landed in front of Hanzo, but made no other moves towards him. 

“Hanzo Shimada. Member of the Shimada clan if I recall?” Akande inquired, unfazed by the rest of the battle happening around him.

“That is none of your concern,” Hanzo bitterly replied as he drew out another arrow, but Akande knocked the bow out of his hands and grabbed the archer by the throat.

“I remember doing research about you when looking potential Talon recruits. Prominent member of a family criminal empire, next to succeed to the family head. Now I find you working for the enemy?”

“Last I checked, you were the enemy. You were the one who wanted Talon to plunge the world into another omnic crisis.” 

Akande tossed the archer to the hard pavement below, his gauntlet starting to crackle. 

“When Talon is up and running again, you should consider.”

“I already worked with Talon once. Made me realize how better off the world is without you.”

Last Akande started to raise his gauntlet to land a blow on the Japanese man, a crack went through the air and Akande felt a sharp pain in his lower back. Like a sniper’s bullet he was not familiar with for a long time.

Akande looked up at the nearby skyscraper, quickly eyeing where that missed shot went. He saw the woman dressed in a black suit, hesitant from missing the perfect shot. He knew who it was right away. 

“Widowmaker,” Akande muttered under his breath, a smile creeping up on his face.

Turning his attention to the short building, Akande leapt up to the side, with his golden prosthetic hand breaking through the building’s metal to hold on, leaping up a few stories with every leap while knocking off Genji as he tried running along the side to reach him. 

Once he did reach the skyscraper’s roof, Akande didn’t move any farther towards Amelie, just pacing from side to side as he let his arms dangle at his sides, sporting a menacing smile. Amelie still held her rifle up, tracking the menace’s head, but terrified of any sudden movement he would make.

“It’s been a long time, Lacroix,” Akande menacingly boasted. “What’s this I hear about you taking Talon down?”

Amelie didn’t move from her spot, but got messages from the rest of the team in her earset demanding to know what the situation was. She was too paralyzed to respond, maintaining all her focus on Doomfist.

“Overwatch saved me from you did, Akande,” Amelie tried mustering up all the courage inside her, but it didn’t keep her voice from shaking.

“Sombra tells me you put her away? She hasn’t been the same since her cybernetics were taken out. And Reaper is dead too?”

“Rightfully so.”

“That’s no way to talk about your teammates.”

“They were never willingly my teammates.”

“Sombra had ambition, but she had none of the leadership to properly lead her own organization. Even if it was the petty Mexican gang I picked her up from. Whatever happened to making the world strong through conflict? What happened to the Widowmaker who fought to get my gauntlet back?”

“I’m making the world stronger by getting rid of menaces like you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Akande threatened once again, his gauntlet started to crackle blue once again. Amelie, realizing the giant metal fist would now be on the prowl for her, launched her grappling hook to the next building in an attempt to escape. But as she roof, she felt an immense force knock her from behind, sending her flying across the roof near the opposite edge, with her head dangling over the side. She could only hear the deep laughter coming from Akande, walking around her knocked-down body. 

“I’m taking you back with me so we can properly restart Talon. As soon as we get Sombra out too. And this time, I’ll make sure your head is on straight.”

Akande felt another sharp pain on in his back, this time along the upper part where his golden metal met with the rest of his flesh. He dragged his normal hand along his back and felt a slender piece of wood sticking out.

“An arrow?” Akande felt amused. “Does that archer think he can,”

A loud thud shattered behind him as he saw what he had somewhat feared. Winston had landed, but his fur had turned red and lightning filled his eyes. A loud road from the angry gorilla was followed by a swipe that knocked Akande off the roof, with Winston leaping after the target and the sounds of laserfire and metal-on-metal combat followed.

Amelie was still knocked out from Akande’s punch. She knew the rest of the team needed her, but every muscle in her body ached. A little bit of rest up here, away from the battle, might do some good. Maybe some shuteye. 

“Amelie!” a familiar shout echoed. 

Hanzo rushed up to his wife, still lying on the roof on her ass, noticeably shaken from her Doomfist encounter. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her to try to get her out of this state.

“Amelie, are you alright?”

“Hanzo,” Amelie simply replied as she threw her arms around her husband, bringing him close nearly on the verge of tears.

“You’re safe now. Winston is taking care of Doomfist.”

“I . . . I had forgotten . . . how powerful Akande was.”

“He almost took me out too, so we both survived.”

“I . . . I had the chance to take him out, Hanzo. But I ran. It nearly got me killed,” Amelie let some tears outs, sniffing into Hanzo’s shoulders.” 

“Hey, you knew what we were getting into. I had only heard about Doomfist from Genji’s stories.”

“We . . .we nearly lost each other.” 

“I know,” Hanzo once again reassured his wife. “I don’t imagine this will be the last time this happens. And I believe we’ll get through those too.”

Hanzo kissed Amelie’s cheek before she moved her head in order to reach her lips. A touch that briefly made her forget there was a battle going on stories below them. A battle that needed their help.

“Hate to spoil the moment,” Amelie broke away from Hanzo’s lips, “but the rest of the team needs us.”

“Oh, right,” Hanzo remembered, wishing he could stay like this a while longer, but aware of her point. This could wait until Overwatch had captured Doomfist again.


	13. Chateau on the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie visits Chateau Guillard for the first time as it's new owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was just something I had to write once Chateau Guillard was released.

Amelie walked into her Gibraltar room after a session of training new recruits to find a message waiting for her on her computer. It was from a name she didn’t recognize, Reynaud Villeneux, though who would send her mail now.   
It would probably be about the recent deaths of her parents. Something that kept Amelie out of action for grieving and planning the funeral, though she thought she received all the condolences she could get now. 

She clicked open the message to read it.

“Dear Mrs. Lacroix,   
I am the administer of your parent’s last will and testament First of all, my condolences on the recent loss of your parents. They were good people and I knew them both very closely.  
Now for the main order of business. It is our understanding that you are currently the youngest and most direct living member of the royal Guillard family line. The line of counts and countesses with significant authority in the Annecy region of France.  
As such, you are next in line to receive ownership of the Chateau Guillard on the Lac d’Annecy. Please stop by my office so I can deliver the proper titles of ownership to you.   
I look forward to meeting the famous Huntress. 

Sincerely, 

Reynaud Villeneux

Chateau Guillard? The castle in the middle of the Lac de Annecy? Amelie hadn’t been in that place since she was a teenager, a reminder of her family’s long-lost glory in the days of French monarchy. She would occasionally stay in it’s mostly empty, tapestry covered rooms when her parents needed some piece and quiet from the city. And now it’s all hers. All hers to clean up that is. 

Amelie wondered what her husband you think about owning her own castle.

 

Amelie guided the motorboat through the early morning fog along the Lac d’Annecy, the layer of clouds obscuring the view of a few feet in front on her. The passenger, Hanzo Shimada, just moved his head from side to side, still unable to process what his wife had told him prior to their arrival. 

“You’re saying you own a castle?” Hanzo said in disbelief.

“Well I do now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about your royal lineage before?”

“The Guillard family hasn’t been influential in French life since the early 1800’s. We were counts and countesses, but as our power waned, we decided to live among the masses of Annecy, while still retaining ownership of the chateau.”

“I . . . I don’t” Hanzo stuggled to continue his train of thought.

“I didn’t say anything about it before because I didn’t think it was important.”

Eventually, the sun parted through the fog and the chateau came into view. Practically everything upon first glance was as Amelie remembered. The stones were the same shade of dark gray. The statues and walkways were still in respectable condition. Amelie guided the boat towards the wooden dock and tied a rope around one of the posts, making sure the boat wouldn’t float away, before disembarking.

Walking through the old corridors, as the two made their way to separate pre-determined rooms, Amelie remembered some of the things she didn’t like about the castle. The thoughts of being alone in her as a growing girl. Away from her friends and other sites in Annecy she cared for. In this hollow shell of a place. Alone with her thoughts in a spot not of her time. 

With Hanzo by her side now, maybe the chateau wouldn’t be as lonely.

Amelie emerged from the chateau wearing a blue bikini with a turquoise and blue patterned shirt tied around her lower waist, covering up the thong she was wearing. She carried a towel as she walked down to the dock where they parked the boat. She spotted Hanzo lying on the stones with his shirt off and eyes closed, trying to get a tan from the southern France sun. She gave him a light kick to try and wake him up. As he opened his eyes, watching his wife, removing the shirt that hung around her waist, he got the same fluttery feel inside every time his wife wore something this sexy. He could’ve sworn her beauty would kill him one day.

“Where are you off to?” Hanzo wondered. 

“I’m going swimming. You’re more than welcome to join me,” Amelie responded as she walked down to the dock, her hips swinging side to side, inviting Hanzo to come hither. 

“Out in the middle of the lake?”

“I used to do this all the time. As long as you don’t swim too far out, I was told.” 

Once Amelie reached the end of the dock, her hands reached around her back around the strings that held her top up, wondering if Hanzo was watching, but thought better of it. The Frenchwoman lined up her toes with the edge. Bending her knees down, squatting, she jumped off into the water trying to get into the water in the jackknife pose, but her legs weren’t perfectly straight.

Hanzo walked over to the docks to see what had become of his wife. Amelie was lying on her back in the near-still water, her hair spread out in all directions under the surface. Her feet spattered trying to keep her body close to the shore. 

“Come on in, the water’s great,” Amelie requested from her husband.

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” Hanzo complained, motioning to his shorts.

“That shouldn’t stop you.”

Hanzo looked back out to the city, not able to see any residents in the distance. He unbuttoned his shorts and pulled them down along with his underwear, but just stood on the dock after that. It wasn’t being naked in front of his wife that worried him, hardly a concern, but just how crazy this seemed right now.

“You sure no one will see us?” Hanzo felt the need to ask.

“We’re at least a kilometer away from the mainland. No one would have any reason to look over here.” 

Hanzo leaped off the dock into the water near his wife, splashing some water her way and leaving her body at the mercy of the tiny waves that followed. When Hanzo emerged, lifting his wife surprisingly up from underneath, she laughed, but kicked her feet in the water in a mock attempt to get away. They gave each other a kiss as Amelie walked her fingertips down Hanzo’s chest. 

 

The roaring fire gave off enough heat for the married couple, sitting on a couch across from the fireplace, still wet from before that their clothes stuck to their skin. Hanzo rested his head on the crook on Amelie’s neck as she laid her bare legs on top of his. They both held a glass of 20-year-old cabernet from a nearby mountainside winery Amelie found in the basement’s wine cellar. A bit sweet for Hanzo’s liking, but it grew on him the more he drank as his wife kept pouring more into his glass.

Amelie’s head rested against her husband’s, occasionally nuzzling and giving a kiss as she had a hand on his shoulder to bring him closer. Hanzo, meanwhile, had his eyes wander around the stonework. Some of them covered in cobwebs and some starting to crumble.

“You know,” Hanzo felt the need to brag, “Hanamura is a more impressive castle than this.”

Amelie looked at her husband with a sneer. Even if they were married, there was no way anyone would diss her inheritance.

“When people think of castles, this is what they normally have in mind.” 

“The Shimada family still lives in their castle, unlike this vacant place.”

“This castle has a dungeon, a wine cellar, statues, royal banners. I don’t recall Hanamura having those.”

“Hanamura had more than enough armaments for a yakuza family. Is the most complicated piece of weaponry here one of those skinny French swords?”

“Those are quick and too the point. Not to mention as owner, I can come here whenever I want. Last I checked, you don’t own Hanamura.”

“Well, eventually I will. And how long do you think it will take for you to restore the place? Years?”

“We’ll have plenty of off-time to repaint it and restore all the tapestries here.”

“So, what are you gonna do with this place? Live here?”

“Why not? I’ve already spent plenty of time here. And if you’ve already spent much of your life living in one, what’s wrong with living in another?”

“There’s the problem of us still being active Overwatch agents.”

“Then we’ll spend our vacations here. We’ll retire here. And when we have children, they’ll get to grow up here the same way I did.”

Hanzo looked back at his wife wondering if she had thought through what she just said. “Children?”

“Was that not something you’ve thought about?”

“Have you?”

“Well Gerard and I talked about it a few times, but neither of us were in the position then to make a full commitment to it. I thought since we’re both part of Overwatch, looking out for each other, and no one is actively after us, we could take some time to start a family.”

“Can you even get pregnant?”

Amelie was thrown back at that assumption. Sure, when Talon turned her into Widowmaker, they worked to eliminate any bodily needs that didn’t involve being the perfect sniper, which included menstruation. And as Angela worked on bringing her back, all of her bodily functions were restored. She was shocked at herself for not bringing up the idea of kids sooner, but how could her husband not notice that part of her.

“I just thought with the amount of times we had sex and you haven’t gotten pregnant, I thought Talon must’ve done something to, well, that part of your body.”

“Well they did, but one of the more advanced parts of Angela’s reconditioning was restoring my reproductive system. You have noticed when I’m on my period, right?”

“Of, of, of couse kawaii,” Hanzo stammered, wondering what she would think if hadn’t noticed. Was that really something she needed attention for?

“That’s okay, cher. But that’s beside the point. What do you think about having children?”

“Amelie,” Hanzo was uncomfortable being put on the spot again. Even though he was married to a woman he found extremely beautiful and loved deeply, having a full family together was something far from his mind. His focuses were on being an outstanding Overwatch agent and loving his wife.

“I’m not sure we’d make the best parents,” Hanzo admitted, taking another swig of his wine. “My father was exceptionally hard on me and I worry I’ll act the same way around my kids. We do learn some of our behaviors from our parents after all. And with us being active agents, where would we find the time to be a normal family?”

“It’s a bit late for us to be normal,” Amelie quickly replied. “Then again, why would we be? Besides, Fareeha grew up around Overwatch and she turned into a fine soldier. And when she’s not on base, she can grow up either here or back in Hanamura,”

“Why are you saying ‘she’?”

“It could be a girl, you never know.”

“I think you’re thinking way too far ahead.”

“Either way, I’ll speak to Angela about it when we get back to Gibraltar. How suitable it is for kids. Let’s just enjoy the fire for now, mon cher.”

Amelie set her and Hanzo’s glasses of wine down on the table as she gently pushed her husband down on the couch. A gentle pass of her lips onto his followed, though Hanzo’s head pushed against the armrest wasn’t particularly comfortable. From their positioning, Amelie’s feet were dangling over the other armrest, her waist grinding against Hanzo’s clothes as she could feel her husband’s member growing.

“So, you were saying something about sex earlier?” Amelie asked, with a sly grin on, dragging one of her husband’s hands over her buttcheeks. 

“I did,” Hanzo immediately caught on, his hand along her ass pushed her closer while his other hand tried to slip under her bra. “I could make love to you in every room of this castle if I could.”

“Oh la la, sounds like a worthy quest,” Amelie coyly challenged with another kiss. “Where would you like to start? The bedroom?”

“As good a place as any,” Hanzo talked back as he dotted kisses along her jawline and neck. Amelie slid off and dragged Hanzo off the couch by the hand, leading him to one of the stairwells with a deep shade of blue. Hanzo gave her butt a few pats before throwing his arm around her shoulder to drag her in close.


	14. Amelie the Dom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless smut ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone I've come across who's written widowmaker porn has had her being a dom. So I figured I'd take a crack at that.

“That’s it, lick me more, more, harder!”

Amelie rested on her knees on her chateau’s bedroom bed, her hand tangled in her husband’s hair, forcing his head between her legs. She only had a black bra on and her necklace, the rest of her clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor. Hanzo, on the other hand, was completely nude, with his chest, non-tattooed arm, and area surrounding his crotch having scratch marks from Amelie’s fingernails. 

Normally, Amelie and Hanzo would take turns with who would be dominant and who would be submissive. Hanzo’s turns being dominant normally ended up him lying on top thrusting himself inside her. Not that Amelie certainly didn’t enjoy being pleasured by her husband, but she got the feeling this could get boring quickly. 

On this day, Amelie felt particularly dominant, and was determined to show her husband how being a dom was done. 

Hanzo’s cock was stiff enough that some of his precum started to seep out, with the taste of his wife’s juice making him further stimulated. He reached a hand out to his cock, needing to get his orgasm out of his system, but Amelie quickly grabbed his outstretched wrist and redirected it towards her butt, doing the same when his other hand tried reaching for her breasts.

“You can only touch my ass until I say otherwise,” Amelie ordered, eyeing how her husband’s eyes had a needy quality to them. “Come on, smack me.”

Hanzo raised his hands before bringing them down on Amelie’s buttcheeks, the Frenchwoman gyrating her crotch around her husband’s mouth, trying to get his toungue to constantly lick her clit. Every smack against her got a quick gasp out of her mouth, but Hanzo still tried to reach to for his dick, needing to release himself, but Amelie kept his hands firmly in place with her own.

“What did I say?” 

“Ame, please, I need to,”

“You need to cum? Allow me,” Amelie reached a hand behind her and had her fingers stroke Hanzo’s cock upward, with her thumb spreading his precum around the tip. As she continued stroking, Amelie felt his penis occasionally spasm, getting close to cumming. She didn’t want this end yet, her husband could go much longer than this. 

“That’s enough of that,” Amelie lifted herself off of her husband’s head and gave a few taps to his hips. “Flip over.”

“Flip over, what for?” Hanzo confusingly asked, feeling close to orgasming, but not at the stop where he couldn’t stop it yet. “Shouldn’t I get my reward now?”

“You’ll get it after what’s next, mon amour.”

Hanzo simply complied, rolling over so he lay on his stomach, his elbows propping himself up with his back, and feeling bitter. “I’m starting to think what this reward is worth. I’ve grasped your chest so many times I can feel them on my hands constantly.”

“But does it not feel any better when you do?” Amelie asked with a bit of slyness, a finger dragging down along Hanzo’s buttcheek. She didn’t get a response as her hands felt her husband’s firm butt was, a bit clenched at the moment.

“You know Hanzo, you constantly compliment me on my heavenly ass. But I never get to do the same with you. Consider this my compliment.”

Hanzo got a chill up his spine when he felt his wife’s tongue go between his buttcheeks, circling around his asshole but never closing her mouth entirely over it. Even when she planted kisses on his posterior in-between spreading her tongue around, Hanzo’s reflexes made his legs try to fight his wife off, but Amelie didn’t budge, continuing to use her probing tongue. 

“You’re so cute when you squirm. I should grab you be the ass more often,” Amelie said as she raised her head, immediately lowering it back down to lick him some more. Hanzo still squirmed, but settled down as time went on as he got used to Amelie’s probing tongue. It certainly felt pleasurable, just not a particularly sexual sensation. And whenever he did spasm, Amelie maintained her composure in gratifying her husband.

Upon finishing her oral work, Amelie gave Hanzo’s ass another smack, moving herself and Hanzo to lie down in front of her husband, her hands reaching behind her back.

“Since you’ve been so loyal and followed my orders,” Amelie unhooked her bra and tossed it aside with the rest of their discarded clothes. She lay against the bed’s pillows with a hand supporting her head and her legs spread open, with her other hand spreading her pussy lips. “The dragon can claim his prize now.”

Hanzo instinctively crawled over his wife’s body, waiting to put himself inside her. But he stopped himself before committing; figuring that since Amelie was trying some different things to his body, he figured he should return the favor.

“I want to cum on your face,” Hanzo requested.

“Aren’t we feeling adventurous today,” Amelie got a smile on.

“Can’t be as adventurous as you licking my asshole.”

Hanzo stood up on the bed, his feet sinking a few inches into the bed, with his hand circling his cock and stroking it, trying to build his orgasm back up again. Amelie situated herself so her head was level with his groin, her mouth open wide and tongue sticking out. Hanzo’s stroking got him to start groaning and from starting down at his fully naked wife, looking as desirable as ever. Amelie reached a hand out to clasp his balls, fondling them and reaching a few fingers further to tickle his underside.

Eventually, Hanzo couldn’t take anymore. He felt himself give way as his jizz burst out of his dick onto Amelie’s face, hardly aiming for her open mouth. Just getting his cum on her nose and upper lip, with streaks dripping down her cheeks. The Frenchwoman made no attempt to clean herself off, just licking the semen around her mouth before sucking the last few drops from Hanzo’s cock.

 

The two ended up on their sides facing each other. Hanzo stroked the hair surrounding Amelie’s necklace, dragging a finger along the chain from the medallion up to her neck. Her head scrunched up against her neck as the finger went along. The reactionary smile she gave off made Hanzo smile as well, them both basking in the afterglow.

“So, how was that?” Amelie asked, running a hand along Hanzo’s tattooed arm. “Have you ever been dommed that hard before?”

“It was quite exhilarating. Did you and Gerard do anything like that?”

“No we didn’t, not with the amount of time we spent apart. When we did manage to make time for each other, simple lovemaking sessions were more than enough for us. You, on the other hand, since we’re married now, I’ve have time to think about what other things I’d like to try.”

“So I can expect more?”

“If you ask. And maybe we can indulge a few of yours,” Amelie lazily slid back on top, resting her hands on her husband as she planted more kisses.


	15. Halloween Role-play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie convinces Hanzo to do something fun for Halloween

Hanzo sat at the bar, a glass of lager by his hand already half-full. He waited at this bar in Gibraltar near the Spanish border for nearly half-an-hour now. He was dressed as the demon form of an Okami, the Japanese version of a werewolf, covering himself charcoal black with some temporary wolf designs on his skin. Well, he had been a werewolf in his mortal form before dying and selling his soul to extended his life and became a demon. Not something he told his wife, just a spur of the moment. If he was going to wear this, he was going to act how he wanted.

Everyone else in the bar was dressed up in Halloween costumes, even though it wasn’t for another few days. A few had a group costumes of Overwatch members Hanzo noticed, though none were dressed as him. He was never the most popular member with the public anyway. Not like the Tracer’s, Jesse McCree’s, Genji’s, and Angela Ziegler’s he saw. And the people that were dressed up as his wife.

Hanzo eyed the door. His expected guest had yet to show up. He downed a bit more of his lager, motioning for the bartender to fill his glass up. Amelie had kept him waiting before some escapades like this to build up anticipation, but this was too long even for her.

Hanzo looked over the door again. There, he saw his guest. 

Amelie was wearing her usual mission outfit, the black suit with a red vest and tie. But she was also sporting blush on her cheeks and he noticed a pair of bite marks made up along her neck. 

She would normally be his wife. But tonight, Amelie Lacroix was Belladonna Vega, a vampire who lived on the rock of Gibraltar. And this character made her way to the bar, drawing the eyes of everyone not in a conversation. 

“Is this seat taken, beau?” Amelie asked, pulling out a bar chair and sitting next to her husband.

“No it’s not,” Hanzo replied, trying to not pay attention, thinking that’s how his character would react. 

“What can I get you, ma’am?” the bartender asked when he walked by her. 

“I’ll have a glass of your finest Spanish wine,” Amelie requested. 

“Coming right up.”

“Can’t say I’ve seen you around here before,” Amelie directed towards Hanzo, still not giving her his full attention.

“And you frequent this place?”

“I do. And I know someone’s a stranger when they don’t look my way when I enter the room.”

“Oh I noticed how everyone else was under your trance.”

“You really are a stranger then. There’s a good explanation for that. Because they are.”

Amelie showed off her teeth as the bartender came back with her glass of wine, her canines sharper than a regular human would be. Hanzo knew they were fake, as his wife went all in on this vampire roleplay idea. 

“Most of them aren’t showing it,” Amelie directed towards the crowd, but they have bitemarks on the side of their necks like I do.”

“So if you’re a vampire, and you bit them so they’re under your control, wouldn’t you be under another vampire’s control?” Hanzo condescendedly pointed out. Amelie felt her rhythm dissipate, her evil smile going away at how Hanzo was pointing out logic holes. 

“I’ve been a vampire for nearly 200 years and the one who bit me is long dead. I make my own way in the world now. Oh, the name’s Belladonna by the way. What’s yours, etranger?”

“The name’s Ookami,” Hanzo replied, fleeing quite ridiculous saying that name out loud, not sure who else could hear him.

“And might I ask what you are? Some kind of demon I take it?”

“I’m not just a demon. I was a werewolf in my mortal life.”

Some enthusiasm in Amelie’s face dropped off as her smile faded. This was not part of the plan she thought would happen.

“A werewolf? I thought we agreed on a demon,” Amelie whispered to her husband, breaking character. 

“This demon is someone who used to be a person, then became a demon when he died. And he happened to be a werewolf.”

“When he died? Demon’s aren’t zombies!” 

“I made a deal with a yokai, how’s that?”

Amelie had no idea what her husband continued going on about, just assuming it was more Japanese legends he was more knowledgeable about. So he decided to drop it and slip back into her vampire character.

“You seem far away from home. What are you going in Gibraltar?”

“I’ve been destined to wander the earth since I betrayed the yokai who brought me back to life. I can never go back home in Japan again.”

“A wanderer? So you have no place to stay?”

Hanzo looked back at her with a leer in his eyes. “I have no blood to suck, if that was what you were thinking.”

“Oh,” Amelie briefly put on a pouty face. “Well consider it an act of kindness. It isn’t often I come across another supernatural beast like myself. Haven’t been with one in a long time.”

“Is that so?” Hanzo ran his hand along Amelie’s thigh, feeling the tight leather fabric hugging against her skin right up to the seam along her crotch, where his hand ended up. No one else in the bar was paying attention, minding their own Halloween shenanigans. “I can’t say I’ve ever been with a vampire before.”

“Nor can I say the same with a werewolf. Or a demon. You’re thinking about taking this somewhere else I take it?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Well I live up on the Rock of Gibraltar. It’s where I take all my victims, but you’ll be my special guest tonight.”

Amelie grabbed Hanzo’s hand and lead them through the crowing crowds out of the bar, eager to get on the evening’s events.

 

Back at her room at Watchpoint Gibraltar, Amelie sat in front of her mirror applying blood red lipstick, an appropriate color for her vampire character. She wore a black corset, matching panties, and stockings with garters connecting to the corset. She looked at the possible French perfumes to spritz on herself before deciding on one from a turquoise bottle.

“Ame, why do I have to wear this again?” Hanzo questioned from behind the bathroom door.

“You’re the one who wanted to be part-werewolf,” Amelie said in-between smacking her lips to get her lipstick even. 

“It’s, it’s meant for ceremonial purposes. Not this sexual charade you proposed.”

“You agreed to it,” Amelie was adjusting the top of her corset making sure enough of the top of her breasts showed. She sat down on the bed with her legs crossed. “I’m ready, you coming or what?”

The bathroom door opened and Hanzo came out with a nervous face. He had the black charcoal washed off and now sported a brown wolfskin, with the head resting on top of his. Lines of red paint were under his eyes. The only article of clothing he wore was his white underwear, but despite his toned muscles on full display for his wife, he felt ridiculous. 

“Oh la la,” Amelie commented in character, a finger circling around a cup of her corset in arousal. “You weren’t lying about being a werewolf. Does that extend to all parts of your body?”

“Not everywhere since I became a demon,” Hanzo’s voice made an attempt to get more involved, since the fun part would be coming shortly. “But I can in what matters most.”

“Have a seat,” Amelie patted the spot on the bed next to her. As soon as Hanzo sat down, and made sure his wolfskin didn’t get in the way, Amelie planted her lips onto her husband’s, a hand stroking his chest with freshly manicured nails settling into a finger circling his nipple. As their tongues met, moreso when in Amelie’s mouth, her fake fangs accidently grazed his tongue, getting an instant reaction of pain from the Japanese man as drops of blood came out into his mouth. 

“Oh merde, are you okay?” Amelie tried comforting, as her husband’s mouth was kept tight, tried to keep whatever blood was seeping out in his mouth. 

“I’m fine,” Hanzo muttered through his teeth. 

Amelie got up to go over to her accessories near the mirror, removing her fake vampire teeth and settling them down. When she got back over to the bed, Hanzo’s face was contorting to try and soothe the pain. She placed a hand on his chest to force him down and followed by pulling his underwear down. Despite his pain, Hanzo was still semi-hard. A few tugs on his cock from Amelie’s hand got him all the way. 

“So, my werewolf demon,” Amelie said as she licked his shaft. “Is your cock the same as a regular dog? Or has it a bit of hellfire?”

Hanzo didn’t know how to respond, considering his penis was no different now than all the other times he and his wife made love.

“Speechless?” Amelie teased him some more. “Why don’t I find out?”

Amelie’s head lowered back down onto Hanzo’s dick, her mouth taking him all in, bobbing up and down as her tongue stroked along the front of his shaft with her teeth grazing the skin. It probably was the practical choice to take her fake teeth out for this. Couldn’t have risking her fangs cutting up his dick. Her fingernails could plenty do that. 

“A, Ame,” Hanzo blurted out, forgetting her character’s name as he tried to get her attention.

“Who’s Ame?” Amelie questioned, inbetween licks on his shaft. “Is she someone I should know about?”

“Sorry, . . . Belladonna. I’d like to change things a bit.”

“Oh? Do you have a request?”

“I want you to bend over at the front of the bed so I can fuck you properly,” Hanzo made his demand. 

“I can accommodate that,” Amelie obliged, crawling on her hands to the front of her bed, rocking back on her knees so that her ass stuck out, waiting for her husband’s demon/werewolf persona to do what he intended. 

Hanzo slipped a hand underneath her panties, feeling the crack between her buttcheeks, a finger tickling her asshole. He lowered his hand closer to the bed, dragging her panties down and he unhooked her garters. Hanzo didn’t give Amelie or her vampire character the pleasure she wanted right away, he first let his stiff erection slide between her buttcheeks, with the feeling of dragging it up and down almost as amazing as when he was inside her.

“Bien, qu’attendez-vous?” Amelie asked, not that she didn’t enjoy the sensation of his dick grinding against her asscheeks, but when Hanzo finally listened and put himself inside her, she became full of bliss. The clapping of his hips against her, the way his hands rubbed against her bare skin and working to feel her breasts underneath her corset. The way he would moan into her ear and occasionally nibble her earlobe made her orgasm build faster than usual. 

Maybe it was the fantasy of it all, her pretending to be a vampire having sex with a werewolf, or just that she loved her husband so much to even try this. Something so ridiculous. 

“Oh, oh fuck me,” Amelie moaned out as the two were getting close, with Hanzo’s thrusts getting faster. She let out a yelp and he a deep moan as they came, not particularly worried if anyone else on the base would hear them. Amelie collapsed onto the mattress once she was finished, with Hanzo onto her back.

“So, Ookami, was that you wanted?” Amelie asked, flipping over onto her back to face her husband, with some of his still warm cum seeping out of her pussy.

“Oh, it was everything I would have expected, Belladonna,” Hanzo replied, slowly moving to lay his body on top of hers, dragging a hand along her skin.

“There was something else I was thinking you could do for me.”

Hanzo just stared deeply at his wife, not giving a verbal response. 

“Living up here on the rock of Gibraltar can be lonely at times. There are hardly any other supernatural creatures here in the city, let alone ones who are able to pleasure me in this way. I don’t know if you want to return to your homeland anytime soon, but I’d like you to stay. I can see myself falling in love with you. Do you feel the same way?”

“Belladonna, a wondering spirit like myself would like nothing more.” 

Amelie wrapped her legs around Hanzo’s back to keep him close as they engaged in a passionate kiss, their hands running along each others faces. 

“Happy Halloween, Ame,” Hanzo whispered to her as he stared into her eyes.

“Happy Halloween, cher.” Amelie replied as they resumed their kiss.


	16. A Nervous Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie gets some unexpected news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, there isn't much to this one.

“Are you sure, Angela? One hundred percent sure?” 

Amelie was sitting across from the resident doctor with feelings flustering inside her. Something about what Dr. Ziegler just told her must not have been right.

“As sure as I can ever be Amelie. You’re pregnant.”

The words stung the Frenchwoman as much as the first time she heard them. Pregnant? At her age and position? True, it had been a fantasy of hers to have kids with Hanzo, but it was merely that. A fantasy. She hadn’t thought all the way through what having a child as a member of Overwatch truly means.

“I must say, Amelie,” Angela continued her train of thought. “I’m impressed both that you managed to conceive in your 40’s and that it took you two this long for it to happen. Not that I haven’t seen middle-aged women have children before, but with everything you’ve gone through,”

“Will it be normal?” Amelie interrupted.

“Will it be normal?” Angela repeated.

“Oui.”

“It’s far too early to tell, considering you only just started having morning sickness. The fact that you managed to get pregnant is a miracle enough.”

Amelie could hardly hear the words coming out of Angela’s mouth, burying her face in her hands, tears starting to come out.

“Oh Amelie,” Angela tried reassuring her. “Plenty of first-time mothers are nervous and have plenty of questions. We have plenty of medical equipment here so that your pregnancy doesn’t have any complications. And if Fareeha can grow up around Overwatch and turn out like how she did, I’m sure your child will grow up with a very loving family and friends.”

Amelie’s head was still lowered, the sounds of her crying easing out of her hands.

“Or is there something else you’re worried about? Families? Child care? Education?”

“No, it’s not that,” Amelie raised her head up, her eyes red and tears lining her cheeks.

“Then what is it?”

Hanzo walked down the hallway to his wife’s quarters, having been told Amelie would have something for him there. Normally, Hanzo would be more than elated to hear some news from his wife about whatever was on her mind. But those would come to him in person, not by text message like he got. 

Hanzo punched in the number on the keypad to his wife’s room, with the door sliding open. “Amelie, you in here?” Hanzo walked into her room, finding it in disarray. The bed sheets were ripped from the bed. Some of her more revealing clothes were thrown on the floor near the open closet doors, clearly stamped on.

He heard the sound of shower water dripping from the bathroom. The door was closed with a light coming from underneath the door. And some sniffing and whining could be heard on the other side too.

“Amelie, you in there?” Hanzo asked after he gave the door a few knocks.

“Hanzo?” Amelie’s muffled voice could be heard from the other side.

When Hanzo slowly opened the door to enter, he found his wife sitting in the shower area, fully clothed in her training outfit, but wet. When she looked up, her makeup was running down her face that way tears normally stained a face and her black hair was slick wet. What would she be taking a shower fully clothed for?

“Mind if I sit next to you?” Hanzo asked, trying not to act phased by what he was looking at.

Amelie shook her head side to side. Hanzo slid down behind her, wrapping his arms around her stomach, dragging them close with his head resting inbetween her shoulder blades. Though he was sitting down, he nearly slipped on the wet floor. Amelie simply put cupped her hand’s around her husbands, bringing them closer to her stomach.

“Did you have another bad memory?” 

Amelie shook her head, her hair wagging in Hanzo’s face.

“Did you get assigned a mission you didn’t want to?”

Amelie shook her head again.

“You get in a fight with someone?”

Amelie shook her head again.

“Then what could be wrong?”

“Angela told me I’m pregnant today.”

Hanzo felt a shock go through his body when he heard Amelie say the “p” word. His hands around her stomach loosened, trying to wrangle themselves out, but Amelie wouldn’t let him. Instead, she dragged his hands over her stomach, trying to feel the new life that was now growing inside her.

“Is, . . . is . . . it, do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” Hanzo stammered, his mind unable to process the news.

“It’s too early to tell,” Amelie replied, her head leaning backward to rest against her husband’s. 

“Have you told anyone else?”

“Not a soul. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“I thought you would at least be happy.”

“Quoi?”

“You were the one with plans for how our kids would live back at the Chateau. Now I find you like this.”

“Well fantasizing about wanting kids and finally going through with it are different things. There’s so many things I didn’t think of. What if I’m not sent on missions anymore? What if I do go on a mission and something happens to the baby or me? What will the baby think of our pasts when it’s old enough?”

“Amelie,” Hanzo started voluntarily rubbing her stomach now. “You’re getting carried away.”

“And what if our enemies kidnap the baby in an attempt to get at us? Or if it runs away and something awful happens?”

“Amelie,” Hanzo lifted a hand to force Amelie’s face to face him, kissing her on the lips in an attempt to get her to stop worrying. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself,” Hanzo assured her once they finished.

“Oh, sorry,” Amelie tried apologizing. “Look at me, focusing on the negatives here.”

“You have every right to be worried, seeing as you’re going to be the one carrying the child. I’m worried that the worst could happen too. But for now, we should be happy this is happening to us. We can worry about everything else once the child is born.”

Hanzo moved a hand to stroke Amelie’s still damp hair, getting some strands out of his face. Amelie’s doubts were still in her head, but she felt assured for the moment. And when she would get more pregnant, the rest of the team would be with her, no doubt in her mind.

“If this were back in feudal times, I’m sure both our families would be excited for this heir to inherit two castles.”

“Oh my, how lucky,” Amelie said sarcastically, still nuzzling her head in the crook of her husband’s neck.


	17. The Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie gives birth to her and Hanzo's child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in the middle of writing this and another story where Amelie interrogates Moira while she's pregnant, but this one came together much more easily, so here you go.

Hanzo waited outside the delivery room for the past hour and a half, sitting on a bench across from the doors either in one of two positions. Staring at the doors nervously or burying his head in arms. He was given the opportunity to stay with his wife as she was giving birth to their child. But for whatever reason, either the thought of watching a live birth was too much for him or he didn’t want to see his wife in pain, he declined, staying behind in the hallway after rushing Amelie to the Gibraltar medical wing.

In the time since, he had heard his wife scream through the doors worse than any wounds she suffered in any missions they went on. The chatter of doctors urging her to breathe, Amelie screaming French obscenities and her demands for painkillers. Given how she was well past the average age a woman has her first child, it could not have been easy on her.

Finally, he heard the crying of a newborn baby on the other side of the doors, followed by cheers of congratulations from the doctors. At last, Hanzo thought, the agony was over.

After another half an hour of hearing more medical babbling on the other side of the door, Angela and the rest of the doctors made their way through the doors, the Swiss woman making her way to the eager, somehow both nervous and relieved. 

“Hanzo,” Angela said as she removed the procedure mask from over her mouth. The small smile on her face suggested that everything had turned out fine.

“How is Ame?” Hanzo just had to ask. A small part of his mind still rushed to assume the worst after his wife’s screams stopped.

“She’s just a little bit tired from the delivery, that’s all. Right now, she’s resting with her beautiful daughter.”

Daughter. They had a daughter. Such a weird thought to Hanzo that he was a father alone, but now he had a daughter? 

“You can go visit when you’re ready,” Angela said to try and break Hanzo out of his thoughts. “I’m going to tell everyone else,” Angela also said as she made her way down the medical wing hallway.

Hanzo hesitated. It was just a simple action. Walk through the door to your wife, like so many times you have before. Only she wasn’t his wife anymore. She was a mother now. And he a father. Still a thought he wasn’t fully used to. Funny the way two people like he and Amelie were not only married, but now with a child. People who at one point weren’t deserving of families. Not deserving of each other. Now, he only hoped their child didn’t carry any of her parent’s bitterness.

With no need to put it off any further, Hanzo pushed the doors aside and entered.

Laying in her medical bed, Amelie had her eyes closed, her head beaded in sweat and her chin nuzzling the soft tufts of her newborn daughters soft hair. The light coming in from the window seemed to make the two heavenly, though Amelie’s medical smock and the blanket the baby was wrapped up in suggested otherwise. Machines surrounding the bed showed the Frenchwoman’s vitals were okay.

“Ne,” Hanzo greeted the two, quiet enough to not disturb the baby. Amelie’s eyes slowly opened, seeing her husband standing over her put a smile on her face. She raised her head up slightly and he reached in for a kiss on her lips.

“I take it wasn’t too hard on you?” Hanzo asked.

“Well, c’est la vie,” Amelie retorted, giving him a stern look suggesting she was disappointed he wasn’t with her at the birth.

“If we have another child, I’ll swear to be there,” Hanzo replied.

Amelie didn’t bother to answer, just turning her gaze back to her child. Hanzo joined her, look at their daughter’s face nuzzle against her mother’s chest and yawn. Her eyes were hardly open for long, but when they were, those big brown eyes, looked right back at them, unsure of what to make of her surroundings.

“You mind if I hold her?” Hanzo sheepishly asked.

“Be careful,” Amelie lifted her arms up as Hanzo reached in to grab his daughter. As she nestled in his arms, the baby looked at her father and yawned before looking back at him with her brown eyes. Hanzo ran a hand through her tufts of black hair already starting to grow in. He just bobbed from side to side, humming a Japanese lullaby to her.

“While I was waiting to you to come in, I finally thought of a name for her,” Amelie proclaimed, rather weakly since her voice was still recovering from her prior screaming.

“What did you think of?” Hanzo said continuing to rock the baby in his arms.

“Odette.”

Odette. Hanzo wasn’t sure what to make of the name. He was sure he heard is wife mention the name before, but forgot its significance. It also wasn’t one of the baby names they talked about.

“What kind of name is Odette?” Hanzo asked.

“Odette is the white swan from Swan Lake. She and her lover Siegfried choose to die together in the end to escape Baron von Rothbart’s spell.”

“Why would you want to name her after a character who dies at the end of her story?”

“Because she is gentle and kind-hearted and that’s the kind of person I want her to be. She also does look more like me than you, you know,” Amelie badgered.

“You don’t know what I looked like as a baby,” Hanzo replied back, “or what she will look like when she’s older.”

“I’m certain she’ll take plenty from me. So unless you can think of a better girl’s name, we are settled on Odette?”

For whatever reason, Hanzo could not think of a girl’s name, especially any Japanese ones that would match Odette. That name did have a nice ring to it, though he would have a hard time trying to come up with a dad nickname for her. Maybe he would contribute her middle name later.

“I have no qualms with that name,” Hanzo responded.

There was a fast knocking on the door, with the new parents seeing Lena, Brigitte, Hana, Lucio, and Genji, Jamie and Satya peering in through the door’s window, trying to get a glimpse of the baby. Hanzo handed the baby back to his wife, figuring he should let them know it was okay.

“Should I let them in?” Hanzo asked.

“Well we can’t hide the baby from them forever,” Amelie gave her approval.

Hanzo opened the door with the eager guests rushing in to surround the new mother, hardly paying attention to the father.

“Where’s the baby? We want to see the baby!” Lena and some others shouted, with Amelie raising a finger to their lips, angrily shushing them to get them quiet.

“It’s taken me and Angela so long to get her quiet,” Amelie tried getting them to be quiet.

“Oh it’s a girl?” Hana asked while circling her finger in the baby’s face, though it wasn’t paying attention. “What’s her name?”

“Hanzo and I are going to name her Odette.”

“Can we hold her?” Lena asked, trying to make a cutie face to get the baby’s attention.

“Just looking, no touching,” Amelie had to urge them. “Only me and Hanzo get to hold her.”

“Not even her cyborg-ninja uncle?” Genji remarked, sticking one of his robotic fingers out and making circles around the baby’s nose. Odette just had a wide-eyed, open mouth expression on her face, unable to process the cyborg. She could’ve started crying at any point from all the strange faces surrounding her.

The group surrounding Amelie continued to try and get the baby’s attention while asking what giving birth was like. All the chatter annoyed her pretty quickly, trying to get a look at Hanzo through the crowd surrounding her. All the archer could do was wryly smile.


	18. Raising the Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odette is four years old now. And she starts asking about Amelie's past.

“No, no, Odette, go higher on your toes.”

Odette tried reaching higher on the balls of her feet, stretching her short arms barely higher than her head. Ballerinas have their arms in coordinated positions, but the four-year-old girl just had her arms pointed at the ceiling, fingers spread out. 

“It hurts, Maman,” Odette Shimada complained, the stress building on her young ankles.

Odette wanted to be ballerina just like her mother, Amelie Lacroix-Shimada, was before she joined Overwatch. And Amelie was more than willing to show her daughter the ropes, giving her lessons during mission downtime in their family quarters on Gibraltar. She started out at a younger age than she when Amelie started taking ballet classes. The Frenchwoman did have thoughts of Odette maybe following in her footsteps, far away from any danger that came with being surrounded by Overwatch all the time.

“My legs hurt, maman,” Odette complained. Granted she was just a starter, but when Odette complained about anything with ballet, it often centered on her legs.

“D’accord, you can rest now,” Amelie ordered, her daughter taking great delight in now longer stretching her legs. “I’m going easy on you because I love you. My instructors were not so easy on my legs. And I turned out fine.”

“When can I start dancing to music?” Odette asked.

“You have to get the basics down first. And building up strength in her legs is paramount.”

“But it would be more fun.”

“You want me to have you do those weird Japanese dances papa showed you?”

“No!”

“I thought so.”

“Maman, can I see those pictures of you again?”

“Of course,” Amelie took off a book from her shelf, one containing pictures of her life before being turned upside down with Talon and Overwatch. Simpler times, back when she was growing up in Annecy and living the life of a ballerina and performing across Europe. Odette loved going through these old photos, seeing her mother look so beautiful all those years ago in tutus and makeup. 

But whenever Amelie would show these pictures to her daughter, she only went up to a certain point, never showing anything past those of her as a ballerina on the stage. So it was the same pictures seen over and over again. Being the rambunctious four-year-old she was, Odette flipped further ahead at her first opportunity. Amelie was caught off-guard where it landed, but Odette’s curiosity was only peaked further.

“Who’s that, mommy?” Odette pointed to a picture she just saw. The wedding photo between Amelie and Gerard. The whole pages in front of here were filled of pictures of Amelie and Gerard as a happy couple.

It seemed so long ago for Amelie, a life where Gerard was the center of her world. But there was a reason why she didn’t tell Odette yet about her former husband, and everything else that came with it.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Amelie tried brushing aside. “Not until you’re older.”

“You’ve said that before. When I asked about how you and papa met. Things I can’t know until I’m older.”

“Well that’s because it’s true.”

“Why can’t I know?”

“Because there are some things too complicated for you to understand.”

“What’s so hard about it?”

She’s gonna keep pestering me about this, Amelie thought to herself. It shouldn’t be surprising to her, since Jamie and Satya’s kids were ever the curious ones as well. There was no way she could understand Widowmaker at her age, and everything else that came along with her. But at the very least, she could at least understand who Gerard was.

“Before I tell you this, I want you to know Maman and Papa love each other and we love you very much.”

“I know.”

She knew she shouldn’t tell her daughter this for another few years, but maybe she would understand what she can say.

“Papa is not the first man I married. Or even fell in love with.”

Odette didn’t say anything. Just listening.

“His name was Gerard Lacroix. He was an Overwatch agent. And I fell in love with him back when I was a ballet dancer in Paris. Strange thinking about how long ago it was. 20 years at least.” 

“Where is he now?”

That was something Amelie feared she would ask. A four-year-old wouldn’t completely understand the things she did or why.

“He’s dead,” Amelie simply said. “That’s why he’s no longer around. He’s buried in a cemetery in Paris. I’ll be sure to take you there sometime.” 

“Would he have been my papa if he was still here?”

“I don’t know, but you most definitely would not be you if he were here. And I wouldn’t love you the same way I do now.”

“Why is he dead?”

Another question she hoped wouldn’t be asked.

“People that wanted to hurt Overwatch killed him. And, an, and,” Amelie couldn’t bring herself to say the rest.

“And what, Maman?”

“Maman did some very awful things afterwards, things you’ll learn about when you’re older too. But Overwatch saved her from doing that. And I met so many friends here in Overwatch in the meantime, including your father.”

The Frenchwoman didn’t want to say anymore, but in the knick of time, Hanzo came in the room. He and Amelie were due to head out for a mission in Serbia, so it was time for their daughter to partake in her usual plans for when her parents went on a mission.

“Odette, you ready for your playdate?” Hanzo asked his daughter, who moved away from her mother and clung to his leg.

“Do I have to?”

“I thought you liked hanging out with the Fawkes kids.”

“All they talk about is how cool it is their papa builds bombs and their mom makes lasers.”

“Well try talking about how cool your parents are. Just to even things out. Even if there’s four of them and one of you.”

Odette still clung tightly to her father’s pantleg, refusing to loosen her grip, and buring her face in the fabric.

“Is anything wrong, Odette?” Hanzo asked.

“I still love you, even if maman loved other people,” Odette said through the fabric.

Hanzo looked over at Amelie, making a concerned face as to what that could mean. Amelie didn’t verbally respond. Just making an eye motion towards their daughter, trying to imply she was asking about their past.

“I love you too,” Hanzo replied, reaching down to rub Odette’s hair and getting the girl to let go of her grip on him. “Now go on, don’t want to keep the Fawkes waiting.”

“Aren’t you going to walk me down?”

“Not now, I need to talk with your mother before we head out. You know where their room is.”

Odette had been to the Fawkes’ room plenty of times, near where the base’s workshop was, to walk down by herself. But Hanzo would normally love to take his daughter on a walk throughout the base. He needed some clarification as to what she said. About Amelie loving other people.

“What did you talk to her about?” Hanzo asked with notable concern in his voice.

“She saw a picture of Gerard and started asking.”

“You didn’t tell her everything, did you?”

“Mon dieu, non. She’s much too young.”

“So when did you think you will tell her about Widowmaker?”

“When she’s old enough. Of course.”

“You know, she’ll just ask more questions of course. Not only about you, but about me. Who knows when she’ll start asking about why Genji is a cyborg?”

“There is no way Odette will think her parents are horrible people. Not with the amount of good we have done since. And if she thinks otherwise, well, we can simple own up to our mistakes and tell her they do not define the life she can have.”

“God, I hope you’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. So after this chapter, I might dedicate whatever I add onto this to some au's I have in mind. Since I don't know where to continue the main story after this.


	19. The Kabuki Actor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU where Amelie is still a ballet dancer and Hanzo is a Kabuki actor. She is on tour in Tokyo where they cross paths.
> 
> I apologize if this seems too hastily edited or took too long. My brain's been fried from looking for a new job and getting into starcraft.

Amelie Guillard walked back to her dressing room after the curtain fell. The performance was not one she was particularly happy with, as the lead role in Giselle. Ever since the Paris Ballet embarked on this East Asian tour, her style seemed a bit off to her. Not that the audiences in Beijing, Seoul, or tonight at Tokyo’s National Theater did not mind, as she and the other dancers were received rapturously. 

Still, her performance left much to be desired. A less-than-sharp plié here, a step where her legs weren’t as straight as they should, it was something that nagged at her. At least she had a few days rest before the next show.

Changing from her ballet costume to her streetclothes, and getting compliments from the other dancers for her performance, Amelie thought about how she’d spend her time off. Lord knows she was overdue for a vacation. Maybe she would visit some of the Imperial Japan sites or castles. Or maybe a sake brewery. Anything that wasn’t neon or bright.

Amelie left the theater backstage door, making her way to the nearest street to hail for a taxi. She took a moment to remember what the Japanese word for taxi was, but then she saw a bearded man leaving the theater hailing for one and rushed over.

“Excusez-moi,” Amelie asked, slightly out of breath. “You mind if I share a cab with you?”

“Oh, not at all,” the man replied back.

“Merci,” Amelie quickly replied getting herself into the backseat as the man followed.

“Can you take me to the Sheraton Miyako?” Amelie asked the driver and then turned her attention to the other passenger. “And what about you monsieur?”

“Hanzo Shimada,” Hanzo replied. “And I can wait until you reach your stop.”

“Suits me,” she replied as the taxicab drove off onto the Tokyo streets.

Hanzo looked over Amelie as she looked out the window at the bright neon lights of the city passing by. She wasn’t a big fan of the bright, animated cutesy displays, a far cry from somewhat dignified displays she would see all the time in Paris. But she supposed they had their own charm.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but were you one of the ballet performers tonight?” Hanzo asked.

“I was,” Amelie replied, slightly caught off guard with how he recognized her. “Were you in the audience?”

“Wouldn’t miss a show by the renowned Paris Ballet Company for the world.”

“Oh, not the kind of response I’d get from a local.”

“Why’d you assume that?”

“Given the somewhat abysmal turnout. You must’ve seen the theater was only about half-full, right?”

“So? I’m a theatre person. And I know a good performance when I see one.”

“Well, thank you for the compliment, Mr. Shimada.” 

“I’m an actor myself. I’m performing in a show tomorrow night. Maybe you’d like to stop by.”

“That’s awfully forward of you. At least ask a girl to dinner first. What kind of show?” Amelie questioned, intrigued.

“Kabuki.”

“Isn’t that the kind where everyone is in makeup and bright costumes?”

“You can say that about any kind of theater.”

Amelie took a moment to consider his proposal. It wasn’t out of the question to think he was attracted to her. Or maybe he was just being friendly to a foreign stranger. And it would be something to fill her day up. But committing to do something with this stranger just seemed off. And she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea about her.

“Hanzo, if you’re coming onto me,” Amelie started to fib, “I must say I’m involved with someone at the moment.”

Hanzo went silent, thinking to himself how he may have come on too strong to this foreign woman.

“But he’s back in Paris and I have a few days before my next performance. Why not? I’ve always wanted to see theater from other countries.”

“Sugureta!” Hanzo excitedly said. “It’s at the Kabukiza theater, near Tokyo station. It’s the station where all the shinkansen arrive and depart. It starts at seven, so make sure to get there early. I’ll leave a ticket for you.”

The cab pulled up to the Sheraton hotel, with the driver asking Amelie for the fare. 

“I should leave the ticket for Amelie Guillard, right?” Hanzo asked.

“That’s my name,” Amelie said as she searched for the appropriate amount of yen in her purse, but saw Hanzo slip some yen notes to the driver. He didn’t say anything regarding that, but that prompted Amelie to step out of the vehicle. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you then,” Hanzo replied as the taxi drove off.

 

Amelie made her way through the crowd of people talking to each other, a tad smaller than she thought there would be. Then again, she didn’t know how big the theater inside would be, or if this was typical for a kabuki show. Hell, she barely knew anything about kabuki, just that all the actors wore facepaint during the show. At least she brought along a purple dress with flowers along to wear for such an occasion.

“Excuse me,” Amelie said to the woman in the willcall booth. “I believe I have a ticket waiting for me.”

“Who left you the ticket?” the willcall lady replied.

“Hanzo Shimada. I’m told he’s part of the show.”

“Hanzo Shimada? Oh he’s in the show alright.”

The woman handed Amelie her ticket, with her seat number in regular numerals, but everything else was in Japanese, including a group of particularly large symbols the ballerina could only assume was the play’s title.

“Um, I hate to bother you again,” Amelie said to the willcall woman, “but I can’t read Japanese. What is the title of this play?”

“Shinjuten no Amijima. In English, The Love Suicides at Amijima.”

Love Suicides? So like Romeo and Juliet? 

Amelie accepted her ticket and made her way inside, admiring the Japanese ornamentation of the reception area and theater, her ticket saying her seat would be on the ground floor section of seats.

Amelie made her way down the aisle to her seat, in the center section of the theater a few rows away from the stage. Her solitary seat was already surrounded by other attendees, silently wondering why this western woman was spending her time here. Or at least that’s what she assumed the other people were thinking. All the while, her mind went to what kind of role the man she met yesterday would play. At least her program was in a language she could understand and subtitles would play on the back of the seat in from of her.

As the lights dimmed and the curtain opened, the musicians accompanying the show in the back of the stage were revealed, followed by applause. As the band played their wood blocks, shamisens, and flutes, a stage rose up slowly, carrying four of the shows performers up, covered in bright red, white, black, blue and gray robes and predominantly white makeup.

One of the performers did catch Amelie’s attention. One with red makeup lines on his face, a sunhat, and other articles of red and white clothes. 

She had no doubt in her mind that under all that makeup and clothing, he was Hanzo Shimada.

There were two things throughout the play that stuck Amelie. First, all the actors were men. In a play about love suicides. There no doubt had to be female roles in this. The second was the singing going on during it. It reminded her of opera, but the kind from the early 20th century where composers experimented with atonality. It was probably a cultural thing she wasn’t used to. 

But she had a long night ahead of her watching this man she met yesterday entertain her.

 

Hanzo sat in his dressing room wiping the makeup off from his face, the colors quickly smearing together on his face and on the towel he used. He kept thinking about how some notes he sung were out of tune. And they may not agree

Among all the nameless faces he saw in the crowd, he couldn’t place the ballet dancer from the night before among them. The section where he reserved her seat was full, so maybe he just lost her among the crowd. He pondered this when a knock came from the other side of the door. 

“Ohairikudasai,” Hanzo said.

“Is that a come in,” a familiar voice on the other side said.

“Yes it is,” Hanzo replied, allowing Amelie to come inside. She had a smile, with Hanzo assuming she enjoyed the show.

“So, what did you think of the show?” Hanzo asked.

“It was, . . . interesting. Reminded me of one of Berg’s operas.”

Hanzo did not know the name Amelie mentioned. “I’ll take that as a compliment then.”

“So, I observed all of the actors are men?”

“At this company at least. A very traditional one. I’ve heard of some that actually let women play the women roles.”

“So . . . have you ever had to kiss any other guys?”

“I’m sure you know as I do you have to do anything for the art.”

A relatable sentiment, Amelie thought, but her mind just wandered to parts where Hanzo had to kiss other men for the part.

“So when do you return to Paris?” Hanzo asked, drawing Amelie out of her daydream.

“Not for a while. The company is staying here for another 10 days, with a few show dates in there, before going to Sydney. Then we’ll go back to Paris.”

“I have some downtime until my next show too. If there’s anything else you want to see in Tokyo, I’d be more than happy to show you.”

“My own personal tour guide, what a lovely thought. You know where my hotel is. Meet me at say, 10 o’clock?”

“Works for me. I’ll think of some places to take you in the meantime. See you then.”

“See you then, Hanzo,” Amelie said as she left the room, making her way through the dressing rooms to the front of the theatre. She thought about what new places in Tokyo she would be lead to tomorrow.


	20. France wins the 2082 World Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie gets caught up in France reaching the world cup final

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to write something for France winning the 2018 World Cup. Also, I get to make up world cup history between now and the future.

Amelie walked the streets of Annecy carrying paper bags with wine as she heard loud groans from one of the nearby bars. A quick glance in one of the windows showed a replay of what happened. One the Mexican players dragged a Frenchman down right at the line of the penalty box, even though the shot ended up sailing over the net. He only got away with a yellow card.

Even as it approached midnight, the rowdy French public was still crowded in bars, watching in the streets or watching from parked cars. 

The French National Men’s Football team was in the middle of their World Cup final match against Mexico, taking place in Buenos Aires, the third time Argentina hosted the competition. France was vying for their fifth title, Mexico their first. The French would have been tied for the most of all-time if Brazil hadn’t won their sixth title four years earlier. It had done wonders for Brazilian morale in the wake numerous scandals involving Vishkar in Rio de Janiero.

As someone who grew up to appreciate the finer things in life, along with both her first and second husbands, Amelie did not pay attention to sports that much, except to when she was invited to such an event. Her ballet career, and subsequent time as Widowmaker, did not leave much time for such frivolities. 

But given France’s performance in this tournament, their best since they won three straight championships between 2018 and 2026, it got to a point where even the Overwatch sniper got caught up in the hoopla. She even bought herself a dark blue France jersey.

Her small motorboat was still tied up at the lakeshore dock. The lights at her chateau were still on, so she would have no problem finding her way back to her home. Even as she traveled further away from the shore, the chants of “Allez les Bleus!” and lines from the French National Anthem could still be heard. Amelie would be lying to herself if she denying humming along to some of the chants after a while.

As Amelie docked the boat at the Chateau, Hanzo greeted her by still wearing his Samurai blue jersey, a few shades of blue lighter than the traditional dark blue France jerseys. It was his unimpressive attempt at trying to maintain pride in his Japan team. France knocked them out in the quarterfinals, still an impressive accomplishment for Japan to reach that far, as the tournament recently expanded to 64 teams. 

“Why so pouty?” Amelie said as she handed him one of the bags with wine. “Are you gonna help me drink this wine or not? There’s only half an hour left.”

Hanzo took the bag, and as Amelie moved in for some lip contact, she smelled a hint of sake on his breath. She normally wouldn’t mind, but he wasn’t drinking it as a sign of celebration tonight.

“Hanzo, I don’t make the rules of football.” 

“That was not a red card and you know it.”

“I think stepping on someone foot with shoes with spikes does.”

“The VAR hardly showed any touching between the feet.”

“At least Japan won it 20 years ago. We haven’t won in over 50 years.”

“Plenty of teams have that as an excuse.”

“Let me ask you this Hanzo. Even if Japan did beat France, do you think they would’ve managed to beat Nigeria?”

That thought shut Hanzo up, sending him far into a train thought about what strategies Japan and Nigeria would play if they fought each other. The hard-hitting, mostly chaotic style Nigeria would use against the control-oriented, calculating style Japan had used that got them to the quarterfinals.

“Come on cher, the match is passing us by,” Amelie dragged her husband by the jersey inside the chateau, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

A television was set on the dining table near a window overlooking the blackness of the lake and the cloudless night sky. Amelie nuzzled up against her husband, both with a glass of wine in hand. The Frenchwoman was more prone suddenly body movements during bursts of play or when a shot missed the goal. Hanzo lay mostly still, only moving slightly to accompany his wife’s body movements.

In the chateau, Hanzo had one room set aside for his traditional Japanese rituals, down to having paper walls set up and incense burning every so often. That had been turned into a mini-shrine for the Japanese national team during the tournament, where Hanzo could watch the matches in peace. In the day after Japan lost to France, it noticeably deteriorated and Hanzo did not talk to his wife at all the following day.

France was already up 1-0, as Amelie had seen in the bar windows on the mainland. But as the game went on, Mexico got sloppy, attempting passes that had no chance of being completed, little control of their hands and desperate forward passes that ended up being called offside. France did score another goal from taking advantage of lapses of the Mexican defense's mentality, getting Amelie to jump off the couch and chant in French, “Allez les bleus!” 

Hanzo did not join in, remaining on the same spot on the couch as his wife rejoined him. But he did take some silent enjoyment in finally seeing her getting so involved with the game he cared about more than her.

Then finally, as the sun made the sky a red-orange over Buenos Aires, the referee blew his final whistle, ending the match, and giving France their fifth title. 

Amelie turned off the television shortly after, just getting a brief view of France’s players running onto the pitch, embracing each other, and falling down on the grass in relief. “Well, that was a well-played match,” Amelie said to her husband losing interest, simply satisfied that France had prevailed in something. “I’m sure Sombra is crying herself to sleep right now.”

Hanzo simply stretched out body parts Amelie had been resting on. He did not get much of a chance to since he just laid right back on top of him.

Amelie gave Hanzo a kiss on the cheek, some sort of consolation prize for putting up with the Frenchwoman’s brief fascination with the world of international football. He can go back to watching Japan matches whenever he can and she can go back to passively watching the matches in the background of other activities. But this was something she would have over his head for a long time. 

“Better luck in four years time,” she said.


	21. Amelie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very different piece, since I wanted to do something inspired by the Underworld song Juanita/kiteless/to dream of love, one of my favorite songs of all time.   
> You can listen to it here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oYoRg6Ws9U

It’s the same spot Amelie finds herself in every time

When a Talon mission ends

All alone in her Chateau in the lake

Unable to join the masses on the shore

They already feared her family

Ruling them from a lake

Why would they accept a blue woman

Every time she’s called on a mission

It’s the only excitement she gets anymore

Getting herself propped up on paper wings

Freedom calls to her but she can’t move toward it

All she can do is look

Look out the window 

Look out the passages to the lake

Look at the pictures of her former life

Not 10 hours earlier she was just on a mission

Feeling alive the only way she knows how anymore

Sneaking in the darkness

Breaking out only to kill

Each time, something screams in her head

This isn’t her

None of these deserve to die

She hears but does not obey

She only obeys her orders

However much her sanity tells her not to

One headshot after another

The false sense of happiness fills every time

And empties every time

She regains herself, finding she is back in her castle

Where she always ends up

A look out over the lake

At all the safe people

All their happy sounds

All the birds flying

All the fish swimming

The eerie silence leaves her thoughts screaming

The barbed wire in her head prevents her escape

The water on the shore will burn her up

Here she stays until the paper wings are propped up again

**Author's Note:**

> I have ideas for future installments, but I'm open to suggestions. Feel free to hit me up at deadlypen1.tumblr.com if you have an idea for me to write.


End file.
